


Haphephobia: The Fear of Touch

by Birdybirp



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Building Friendships, F/M, Fluff, Intrusive Thoughts, Mental Illness, Romance, Slow Burn, Suicide mentions, Therapy, Wholesome, abuse survivor, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2019-10-21 05:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 70,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17636858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdybirp/pseuds/Birdybirp
Summary: An abuse victim learns to trust people again with the help of an unconventional source....a bunch of Satanists.





	1. Chapter One -- Tiberius

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Just a fair warning: There will be illusions to or mentions of physical or emotional abuse in almost every chapter of this. I totally understand if you want to sit this one out! Thank you so much for reading  
> \--Birdy

Getting a cat was a mistake. 

I had been advised by both my doctor and therapist to get some kind of animal companion so that I wouldn’t be so alone all the time when I left the hospital. Not that I minded my time at home, watching TV. It just seemed like a nice thought to have a furry friend around the house that could sit on my lap and comfort me in harder times. I had always loved animals, but had never had the chance to care for a pet of my own. 

I had to set out to a local shelter, determined to get a dog. In a window close to the entrance, though, I saw a group of cats playing together. I took a small glance in and saw a white cat with black on his paws and around his eyes, which were mismatched green and pale blue.

I was immediately in love. 

The shelter had named him Tiberius; apparently his entire litter had been named after Roman emperors. I thought the name was silly, but decided to keep it, putting the name on his adoption papers and taking him home. I figured I could call him Tibby, which looked like it fit him.

The next few weeks with him were great. I had no idea how to care for a cat, but Tiberius had very little needs. He mewed when he was hungry, used his litter box 95 percent of the time, and curled up next to me and purred every second he could. He was a perfect cat. 

That is, until today. 

I had opened the front door to take out the trash and Tibby bolted out like a bullet from a gun. I groaned loudly, dropped the trash bag on my porch, and sprinted after him. I did not have time for this. I had to be to my doctor in about 20 minutes to get my stitches out and those things itched like hell. I wanted them gone, but apparently Tiberius thought I needed to get in a morning run before hand. 

He was so fast for a creature that was usually so lazy. I would get close to him and he would zip away, farther and farther down the driveway. It seemed like he was having fun, which made me even more mad. I thought I had him cornered at one point, until he ran between my legs and across the street. My heart dropped, hoping that no cars would hit him, and I just watched dumbly as he made his mad dash across the road. That did nothing to ease my worries, though, because as soon as he hit the other side of the street, he bolted his way through the open doors of the abbey across the street....Great. 

The abbey, which I had just been calling The Church in my head, was something that no one in my neighborhood seemed to like. People mumbled about it being a Satanic church. That didn’t bother me, however, as the presence of the ‘devil worshiping’ building brought the cost of homes way down in the area. Having just come out of a...rough situation, I couldn’t pass up the price of my small one story home. I had just told myself I’d avoid the creepy, Gothic building like the plague. 

And now my cat that I have only had for less than a month just waltzed in there. 

I groaned again. I was going to kill that little furry shit. But to do that I would have to find him first. 

I ran across the street and slowly, gingerly, stepped through the doors of The Church. The ceilings were high, covered in metal chandeliers that seemed to have electric lights in them. All the walls were brown stone that made every noise echo. Luckily, it seemed that the church was much busier than it looked on the outside. Members of the clergy in different colored robed milled around, nuns in shorter skirts than usual following after them. There were also a lot of people in all black wearing silver masks, which was weird. Or was it normal for this church? Either way, hopefully no one would notice one anxious girl darting around them trying to find one white cat. 

I kept my pace quick, giving a wide berth to anyone close to me so I didn’t accidentally bump into them. I just had to find my stupid-ass cat and leave, no big deal. However, my heart was thumping. I hadn’t been around crowds much in the past three years and this was certainly a crowd of very strange people. It put me on edge. I was tense as I went through every hallway and corridor, no one seeming to pay me any attention. Surprisingly, I saw a handful of cats walking around the place, all probably strays, but none of them were Tibby. 

Time was ticking away and I really had to go to my doctor’s appointment. I wasn’t going to have these stitches in my side a second longer than I had to. But I couldn’t just leave my new furry friend in a place like this. What if they sacrificed cats? Do Satanists sacrifice cats? I wasn’t sure, but even if they didn’t, one of the strays lurking around could attack him. I swallowed my pride and approached the next person I saw, one of the people in all black with the masks. 

“Excuse me...” I said, my voice shaky and nervous despite my best efforts. “I’m sorry. I’m looking for my cat. He’s white with black on his paws and around his eyes. Have you seen him?”

I couldn’t see the person’s eyes through their mask but I could tell they were confused by me. They stared, unmoving, for a few moments and I felt myself start to sweat. Then the person made a kind of chirp noise, kind of similar to one Tibby made when I annoyed him, and pointed down a dark corridor. 

“Uhm...Thank you.” I said and jogged away from the strange figure. I turned to look back at them for a second and saw them staring at me, something long and black swishing behind them idly. A tail? No, no time to think about that. 

I kept my jogging pace down the corridor until I heard the sharp crash of something metal hitting the stone floors and the sound of a high pitched yelp. Something in my bones told me it was Tiberius. I followed the noise down another hallway. As I turned the corner, I saw a very tall metal candelabra on the ground, it’s candles thrown off of it and put out by the crash. Next to it, I saw a man pressed up against the wall, his arms spread out and his palms crushed into the stones, trembling. I looked down from the man’s terrified face to see a little white ball of fluff kneading at his leg as if he wanted to climb up him. 

I quickly ran up and scooped the feline off of the poor man’s leg, holding the menace in one arm. Tiberius stretched out his paws towards the man as if he didn’t want to let go. I down his paws and started apologizing. “Sir, I am so, so sorry!”

The man quickly snapped to attention, obviously embarrassed to have been seen terrified by a cat that isn’t even a year old. As he nervously fidgeted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothing, I finally got a good look at him. He was an older man, but I couldn’t guess how old. 40s? 50s? I was never good at guessing these types of things. I’m not versed in what people in churches wear, but he wore a black robe with buttons all the way down, a black sash at his waist. At the end of the sash was a symbol that was like an inverted cross, but not quite. He wore the same symbol around his neck. His face seemed to be wrinkled from looking constantly worried; creases lined his face around his eyes and mouth and were deep on his forehead. His upper lip and around his eyes were tinged a purplish black. Makeup? He also had a mustache that I don’t think I’ve seen anyone have outside of 1920s black and white films. And when he finally collected himself and looked up at me, I finally saw that his eyes were two different colors: green and a bright white. What a strange person...

The nervous man cleared his throat and stood up straight as if to show that he was more calm and collected than he really was. 

“It’s...uh...” he cleared his throat again. “It’s quite alright. I’m just...not very fond of cats.” He looked in my direction, but was obviously avoiding eye contact. I think he was looking over my right shoulder. 

“I really am sorry...He’s never done this before...” I apologized again, patting the cat on the head gently for emphasis. Granted, I had not had Tibby long enough for him to do something like this, but I wasn’t exactly lying. 

And then I noticed: the man had a rat on his shoulder. 

“Oh my God, was Tiberius chasing your rat?!” I gasped, holding the small cat a little tighter. I had never seen him around other animals so I didn’t know if he would behave like this. I looked at the rodent and instantly felt bad for the creature. His ears were pulled back and his small pink paws were wringing nervously. The expression on the rat's face almost mirrored his nervous master. 

“Yes, I believe he was.” The man seemed to relax slightly now that my eyes were focused on the rat and not him. 

“Did he hurt him?” I asked with genuine concern. He looked at me, puzzled, as if no one had cared to ask him about the animal before. 

“I...uhm...” he fidgeted again and looked down at the ground. “I don’t think so...Asmodeus is one of my faster rats...I don’t think a cat could catch him.” The poor creature still looked so scared and I frowned slightly. 

“This might...sound weird...” I started, feeling a general anxiety in my chest at talking to this stranger. But my love of cute furry animals won out. “But can I...pet him? Or hold him?”

Again he looked confused. I feel like he doesn’t have people ask to interact with his pets often. He looked at Tibby, then back at me, and at Tibby again, before giving a small nod. He held a leather clad glove to his shoulder for the rat, Asmodeus, to crawl in to. He wrapped both hands gently around the rodent and held him up to me. The rat seemed more curious now than anything, sniffing the air and looking around. I gently reached out and pet the top of his head with two of my fingers as a sign of apology. 

"Hey, little guy..." I said softly to the rat, scratching him between his ears. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about Tibby...he's just a baby, you know? He doesn't know better..."

The rat looked at me and, for some reason, I felt like he forgave me and my asshole cat. I looked back up at the rat’s handler and realized he was staring at me. I couldn’t read his expression at all and it made me nervous. Then a small, almost unnoticeable smile played on his lips. I felt myself turn a bit red, embarrassed that I was talking to an animal right in front of another person. Now it was my turn to fidget.

“I--I’m sorry again.” I stammered, the anxiety in my chest blooming and making my rib cage feel tight around my lungs. “He just got out. I live across the street and he just ran in here. Shit, I don’t even know if I’m even allowed in here--I am so, so, so sorry.” The words tumbled out of my mouth even as it felt tough to breathe. There was a long silence between us and I could feel a lump of fear in my throat growing bigger and bigger. 

“I...should go.” I squeaked out, taking a few more steps back. “I’m sorry again...” I realized that I didn’t know what to call this person, so I just went with what I thought was polite. “...s-sir...?” I had turned my back to him and was walking away, feeling a slight tremble in my legs, when he spoke softly. 

“Copia.”

“Huh...?” I turned and saw him looking down at his hands. 

“I am Cardinal Copia.....You can come see Asmodeus another time if you would like.” And he turned and walked the other way down the stone corridor. 

“C-Copia...yeah...alright....thanks...” I muttered. “Oh! I’m Evelyn, by the way!” I didn’t even know if he could hear me as I blurted out my name, staring at his back as he left. I couldn’t make heads or tails of this person. I shrugged it off and went back the way I came. The farther I got away from that conversation, the less anxious I became. When I was almost entirely calm, the urgent itch in my side started again. My stitches...I had to get going. As I walked, I held Tiberius in front of my face with both hands. 

“What were you thinking, little mister?” I asked judgmentally. Tibby licked my nose in response and I sighed. I looked into his mismatched eyes and realized...His patches of black fur made his eyes look like the Cardinal’s. I chuckled.

“Maybe you were supposed to find each other.” I said, cradling the cat in my arms as I continued to power walk and find the exit.


	2. Chapter Two -- Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn gets hopelessly lost in The Church and reluctantly accepts help to find her way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments! After today, I should be updating every Sunday. Thanks for reading!!!  
> \--Birdy

I should have paid more attention when I came in here....

 

When I entered The Church, I was so focused on finding Tibby and not touching anyone that I had no idea where I was. From the outside, the abbey was huge, and it felt even larger on the inside. I couldn’t get my bearings at all on where I was. It didn’t help that all of the stone was the same light brown color. My stitches itched painfully, an urgent sign that I really had to leave, and I was feeling more panicked the longer I went without knowing where to go.

 

I passed a lot of different rooms and peeked inside to see if I could spot a way out through them. I saw what looked like a classroom full of the strange nuns I saw earlier, a cafeteria that seemed to serve very elegant looking meals, a library that housed hundreds of ancient looking books, and absolutely no way out.

 

I turned down one hall and was flooded by sunlight. I had wandered into a courtyard that connected two of the abbey’s buildings. There was a stone path that directed traffic between the buildings, but other than that, the entire courtyard was full of flowers. It was a beautiful garden. There were so many plants that it was like a jungle of flora going back farther than I could see. I was entranced by all of the colors, almost as if they hypnotized me. My anxiousness and urgency melted away at the sight. Purples, yellows, blues, and reds danced together in the slight breeze, carrying a soft floral scent on the wind. As if I was being pulled by a string, I had stepped off the stone walkway and on to a small dirt path that went through the garden.

 

There was an archway of vines that lead to a tunnel that was made entirely of flowers. Lush green surrounded me. Red bell shaped blooms hung from overhead, their leaves so thick they almost blocked out the bright sun. Star shaped flowers in white and yellow reached out from the walls as if they wanted to pull me in and keep me in the garden forever. It was as if everything I was worried about had been put on pause as I entered another world.

 

At the end of the tunnel was a circular clearing. The ground was almost entirely green, healthy grass instead of a dirt path now. Trees reached up to the sky, giving ample shade similar to the tunnel that lead here, making the circular clearing seem isolated and otherworldly. Bushes of red lilies and roses were nestled at the foot of the trees, looking exceptionally healthy given how shaded it was in the clearing. Roman looking white stone benches lined the edge of the clearing, all surrounding a statue. It was a woman, naked, long hair flowing down her back, with a snake coiled around her. The serpent circled the woman’s right ankle, her leg, her waist, around her shoulders, and rested it’s head on her palm that she happily held out for it. Stepping closer to the statue, the name of the piece was carved in to the base that the woman stood on.

 

_Lilith._

 

Was this supposed to be a Garden of Eden, then? Hopefully there were no real snakes here...

 

“What do we have? Two lost kittens, eh?” I immediately tensed, having not heard anyone approach. The feeling that I had before with the Cardinal, the anxiety, bubbled back up inside of me. I snapped around to the voice, holding Tibby tightly in my arms.

 

The voice came from a man leaning against one of the trees in the clearing. I hadn’t seen him before...Was he there the whole time and I didn’t even notice? I felt like that wasn’t possible. There was no missing this man. He exuded an aura of confidence, even standing casually as he was now. He wore a strange suit with a symbol on the breast similar to the one I saw on Cardinal Copia’s sash. His entire ensemble felt showy. I felt like that was who he was as a person. His thick black hair was slicked back and highlighted that his face was painted in the abstract image of a skull; stark white, with deep black eyes, nose, and cheekbones. His upper lip was also painted black, similar to the Cardinal. So the Cardinal did wear face paint? The man had the same mismatched eyes as the Cardinal, which unnerved me. How common was having one white eye? He wore a look of bemusement that put me on edge. A small pit gnawed in my stomach as the curve of his mouth reminded me of someone else. His sly smile faulted slightly when he saw that he has startled me.

 

“Ah, _mi dispiace, gattina_.” He stood up straight and put his hands up to show he had no intent on hurting me. “Did not mean to scare you. I just heard multiple sightings of a couple of strays lost in our humble church.” He chuckled slightly, his Italian accent slightly thicker than the Cardinal’s was. He took a careful, fluid step towards me as if he was trying to catch a scared animal on the side of a highway. I tensed again, Tibby meowing slightly in protest as I clutched the cat tighter in my arms. The man froze where he stood.

 

“I know I look scary, little one.” He chuckled again. “But I promise, I just want to help. You look...well...very lost and very afraid. Perhaps this is not the place for you, eh?” I felt like a deer in the headlights. His smile, his charm, the way he spoke...It reminded me of something I did not want to think of. Some _one_ I did not want to think of. 

 

I thought I had thicker skin than this by now.

 

“Ah! Where are my manners?” The skull faced man didn’t try to get any closer to me, but after a minute of me staying completely still and not responding, he felt like he had to break the silence. “I am Papa Emeritus III, the current head of this church.”

 

That snapped me out of it. I had felt before that I might have been trespassing, and I felt that even more now that the head of the entire organized religion was in front of me.

 

“I’m sorry I just got lost looking for my cat who is an asshole and ran in here and I found him but can’t find my way out and I didn’t mean to go anywhere I shouldn’t have and I just got distracted by this garden it’s very lovely and I know that was stupid and I’ll leave right now I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of me in one fast breath, a word vomit of anxiety. Papa Emeritus gave another airy chuckle and a soft, warm smile danced on his lips.

 

“Such a nervous one, _gattina._ ” He slowly approached me again and I forced myself not to tense up. “I will show you the way out. Follow me.”

 

He stepped beside me and tried to put an arm around my shoulder. The tips of his fingers had barely brushed the fabric of my shirt before I jumped out of my skin and frantically stepped away from him. When I had realized what I had done, I felt my entire face and head grow hot in shame.

 

I had done it again.

 

Stupid.

 

_Stupid._

 

**_Stupid...._ **

 

Emeritus looked stunned at my hasty retreat and then he looked worried, guilty that he had scared me again.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean--”

 

“N-No, I’m sorry.” I cut him off, looking down at Tibby in my arms, the shame in my chest turning to burning tears behind my eyes. “I just...I don’t....” I paused and sighed heavily, trying to gather my thoughts.

 

“You don’t...?” He patiently waited for my response.

 

“It’s not you.” I said softly, searching my mind for the right thing to say. “It’s that...I...It scares me when....” I couldn’t find the right words, which made me even more frustrated. I looked up at him and there was concern on his face. I hated when people looked at me like that; like I was frail and easily broken. I hated it because it was true. I desperately wanted it not to be. The tears strained against my eyes harder. I could tell Papa had questions buzzing around in his mind, but he simply nodded and gave me another smile, showing that he understood what I meant.

 

“Very well. We don’t want to make our poor stray uncomfortable while she’s here. I shall take a...hands off approach.” He smile widened and he gave me a wink. I felt a small giggle slither up through my throat and past my lips, the stinging behind my eyes fading. I felt a wave of relief that he understood. His eyes shone when he got the positive response from me. Seeming proud of himself, he gave another nod and turned to leave the garden, expecting me to follow. For the second time that day, I was looking at the retreating form of a very strange man. I hesitated for a moment, then followed after him.

 

As I walked a few paces behind him, I could see that this Papa person was not like Him. Sure, Papa seemed like a playboy, but there was no edge of darkness hiding below the surface. He had His charm, but Papa had a jovial quality to him that was infectious. As he walked me out of the church he would wave at people, kiss the hands of the nuns passing by, and look back at me every so often with a genuine, toothy smile. I felt myself relax a little around him. He seemed like a mischievous child without a truly malicious bone in his body. Sure, I had been mislead by a good personality in the past, but Papa’s attitude seemed to come from his whole being. There was no faking that.

 

“--don’t you think, _gattina_?” Papa asked me a question. How long had he been talking to me? We had arrived in the entrance hall I has spent the entire journey over-analyzing the person who was speaking to me. I felt heat rush to my face as my mind scrambled for something to say.

 

“Uhm...yes.” I muttered out. This earned me a deep laugh from him.

 

“Not listening at all, eh, _gattina_?” My face got even hotter and he gave me another sweet smile. “I understand. This place is overwhelming, wouldn’t you say?” I gave a small nod. “And I feel like you have had a little bit too much excitement for one day.”

 

“I wouldn’t say that...” I muttered, trying to defend myself. I wasn’t so weak that two weird conversations with two weird men would take all of the energy out of me. Even if I did get lost for a while... and scared. Papa looked like he barely believed me.

 

“Either way, here we are!” He gestured grandly to the front doors and walked with me to the front steps of the building. “I hope you keep your little friend under control now, _gattina_.” he said, scratching Tiberius between his ears and making him purr. “I hope our little congregation did not frighten you too badly. You are welcome to come back, you know. Our doors are open to anyone....within reason.” He chuckled at what seemed to be a joke that I didn't understand.

 

“I’d rather not get lost again.” I laughed nervously. I still wasn’t sure if my experience in The Church was good or bad yet and I wasn’t very keen on coming back again soon.

 

“Well, then...I will have to show you around next time.” He gave me a winning smile that dazed me. I didn't think I could blush any harder.

 

“I....Well....Yeah...” I tried to come up with a normal response, but the words died in my throat. I settled for just giving Papa a slight nod and headed down the grey stone steps and across the street to my home. When I looked out my window at The Church once I was inside and Papa was still standing in the doorway. I felt that he was looking right at me and I nervously hurried away from the window.

 

Getting my stitches out was the last thing on my mind now. I had to try and wrap my head around what the hell I had just seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and criticism is appreciated! You can follow me on Tumblr @just-here-for-copia.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3 -- Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn receives a request from someone even more scared than she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading the first two chapters! I should be updating every Sunday now. Thank you for your support!

Once my stitches were out, I couldn’t stop touching the scar they left behind. The raised, pale skin just above my right hip bothered me for even being there. It would have been a smooth line, hardly noticeable, if I hadn’t panicked and clawed at it at the hospital. Something broke in me that first night and I thought, for some reason, that I could rip the wound off of myself. The damage I caused make the wound slow to heal and the resulting scar was raised and jagged. Luckily, I couldn’t get at the two round scars above my right shoulder blade in my back. Those should have healed nicely.

 

I was forbade from finding a job, lest someone find out where I am and tell Him, so I spent most of my days sitting on my couch, fingers idly running over my scar as I passed the time. I had most of the things I needed delivered to my home, so there was no need for me to really leave the house. Thanks to the internet, I don’t know the last time I had been in a place as crowded as a supermarket. There were times I didn’t mind and times where I hated it. I missed being able to function normally. I hated having to overthink every time I left the house. How many people will be there? How small is the place I will be in? How can I keep people from touching me? Honestly, the most face-to-face interaction I had received in at least a year was my run-in with The Church.

 

I had taken to looking at the large, stone abbey pretty frequently, having little else to do. Some days, there was nothing to see; just a big structure that might have looked empty to a passerby. Other days, the nuns would wander the property, leaving for errands or doing some chores. Sometimes the people in the masks would emerge as well, but they never left the property. I noted that none of the masked beings had any tails. The two people I was looking for never appeared: Papa and the Cardinal. I guess they would be too busy and important to do yard work...

 

It had been a week since I had gotten lost in The Church. I was laying back on my couch, staring at the ceiling and running my fingertips over my scar, when there was a timid knock on my door. I stared at the door for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of opening it. My longing for something to do besides stare off into space took over and I opened the door a crack to peer out at my front porch.

 

“What--Cardinal?” I sounded confused as I looked at the man on my doorstep. He was dressed the same black robes I had seen him in the week previous. I opened the door enough that we could see each other clearly, but I was still mostly hidden behind the door. He looked even more nervous than the last time I saw him. I could hear the leather of his gloves rub together as he clenched his hands. His eyes darted everywhere, as if something was going to attack him. He looked like his poor scared rat from the other day.

 

“A-Ah!...Uhm...Yes, hello, Miss Evelyn.” He steadied himself and his eyes settled on me. I didn’t make eye contact with him. Usually, having an unexpected conversation with another person like this would trigger my anxiety, as it had when I had spoken to Copia and Papa before. But the cardinal looked so much more scared of me than I could ever be of him. I almost felt like I had to protect him or comfort him. Copia kept his gaze focused on me, but said nothing. It looked like he had entirely forgotten why he had come across the street to knock on my door. Either that, or he was afraid to say.

 

“Can I....Help you?” I tried to prompt him to speak. Just then, I had a thought. “Oh, is this about your rat? Is he alright?” Maybe he had come to me about some injury the poor creature has sustained at the hands of my kitten.

 

“Oh...oh no, he’s fine.” The nervous, rat-like man cleared his throat. “I just....” He looked away from me and paused, hesitant. “I just need your help.” He looked back at me and I could feel the look of confusion on my face deepen.

 

“Help with what?” I moved from behind the door and into the door-frame, crossing my arms over my chest. This was the most interesting thing that had happened to me in the last seven days and I was curious.

 

“You know things....things about cats, yes?” He looked past my shoulder and in to my living room, where Tibby was sleeping in the sun on top of my couch. I saw his eyes squint in to a small glare and I almost laughed at his animosity to such a harmless creature.

 

“I know things about _my_ cat.” I said, still not understanding where this was going. “I’ve never had a cat before and I’ve had Tiberius for only a month or so.” He looked a little disappointed and I couldn’t help but feel bad. He obviously had to work up some nerve to come over here.

 

“B-But...” He stammered. “But you know the things cats would need to...to live, right?”

 

“I suppose?” I was not any closer to understanding his intent, but his face turned from the vague disappointment to vaguely hopeful. He put his hand under his chin and looked at the ground, thinking of something.

 

“Yes....Yes that should still be fine.” He muttered to himself before looking back up at me.

 

“Papa...” he explained. “He is unhappy about the stray cats we have in the abbey. Says they are starving and must be treated as guests.” I could tell he was unhappy with this development. “He has requested that I provide supplies for the...creatures...So that they may be comfortable. However...” He looked away from me again, pursing his lips. I felt like he was given the task as some kind of punishment. “I only know how to care for my rats...I know that cats need food, but what kind? What else do they need, you know?”

 

“Aren’t there members of your church who could help you?” I asked. Copia’s shoulders tensed and a small flush appeared on his face. He started wringing his hands again.

 

“Well...you see....that is......I-I cannot just...” He closed his mouth and chewed on his lips, trying to find the words. I was reminded of how I couldn’t describe my condition to Papa when he tried to touch me in the garden. Papa had understood what I meant, so I could try to understand him. I understood how hard it was to talk about things that make you ashamed. But what would the cardinal of a Satanic church have to be ashamed of?

 

Out of curiosity, I had looked up a few things about the church online. The main topic that I found in my search was about a band, Ghost, that toured to spread the word of Satan. I didn’t get it. But, more importantly, I found that their hierarchy was similar to that of the Catholic church. They had a Papa instead of a Pope, but then it succeeded downwards to cardinals, archbishops, bishops, monsignors, priests and, finally, deacons; just like the Catholics. This would put Copia at the second highest position, second only to Papa. He must have a reputation to uphold.

 

“You can’t ask for help because it will ruin your image, right?” I spoke gently, hoping I had truly understood what was troubling him. He looked at me, eyes wide, surprised that I had guessed correctly. He gave a curt nod and straightened up again.

 

“Y-yes. So you see...I would be greatly in your debt if you would assist me.” I did not respond to him right away. I had to weigh my pros and cons again. I didn’t think I would ever need a favor from a cardinal, and the idea of going somewhere so busy as a pet store made me scared. The aisles were too small. Anyone could try to touch me. I did not feel like having a breakdown in the middle of a store, especially in front of the Cardinal. But then I remembered how scared he was when he knocked on my door. It really did take courage for him to come over here. A pang of sympathy radiated from my heart and through my body. If he could push through his fears, I could try to as well.

 

“I...Yeah, I could do that.” I gave a small nod and Copia’s eyes shone. I went to take a step out the door to leave with him, but then I realized; I hadn’t done anything outside of the house for so long that I had only worn pajamas for days. I had on old pajama bottoms that had Christmas trees on them, even though it was the middle of May. My shirt was a baggy, grey, stained, extra large shirt from a thrift store that absolutely drowned me and hid most of my body.

 

“Just...Just let me change.” I felt embarrassed of my appearance now. I looked like a slob. I didn’t even want to think about what my hair looked like, having been up in a bun on my head for several days. I felt my shame blossom as a blush on my face and I looked away from Cardinal Copia, moving to step out of the doorway and invite him in.

 

“You can....uhm....You can wait in here for a minute.” I kept my face turned away from him as I gestured inside to my sparse living room. “I-I-If you want to, I mean!” I didn’t want to make him feel forced to sit in my dusty, stagnant house if he didn’t want to, but I watched his shoes move across the threshold on to the old wooden flooring of my living room. His footsteps almost echoed in the space.

 

Everything I had was graciously provided by my older brother, who had been providing for me since I got out of the hospital. I felt absolutely terrible asking him for money, though, so I rented the cheapest house I could find and didn’t request anything additional to fill the space.

 

I had bought an old couch from the same place I bought my over-sized sleeping shirt. The fabric on the arms was torn in places, but it was comfortable enough. I had a small table and one chair that I had found at a yard sale. I never used it, so I piled mail, my bags, dirty clothing, and whatever else on top of it. I didn’t even have a TV. I consumed all of my media from my laptop. I spent the majority of my day laying horizontally on the uneven couch cushions and wasting my day on the internet. The kitchen was small. Two people could not fit in it at once, but it had an oven and fridge, so I couldn’t complain. Dishes from yesterday were in a small pile in the sink.

 

My bedroom, which you could see from the living room, was also just as sparse. The bed was on a box spring on the ground, with only one pillow and a simple blanket to make it more comfortable. I had a few clothes hung up in the closet, but most of them were in a laundry basket on the floor. There was a washer and dryer in a small alcove in my bedroom, so I wouldn’t have to leave my house to do laundry. Not that I did much laundry, anyway. The only personal thing I had was a small, cube shaped bookshelf next to my bed that had a few books in it and a picture of my Mom resting on top of it.

 

As Copia stepped further in to my one-bedroom home, I felt a wave of embarrassment at the squalor I lived in. I never thought anyone would enter come to my house, so I never really cared. But now, knowing that the inside of The Church looks like an elegant old castle with that beautiful garden, I felt a feeling of shame crushing my chest.

 

“You...live here?” Copia sounded concerned. The crushing feeling grew and my heart sped up in my chest.

 

“Ha ha, yeah...” I tried to sound casual, still trying to keep my face out of his view. I didn’t want him to see how red I was.

 

“I just moved in, you know?” I tried to cover for myself. “I’ll be getting more things soon.” That was a lie, but I doubted that Copia would ever be back, so he would never know it.

 

“Hm.” A quizzical sounding grunt came from him as he walked closer to the couch. I finally turned to look at him now that his back was to me.

 

“Y-You can sit down.” I offered. He stood a foot away from the couch, inspecting it. He looked over all the damage on the fabric and the lumps in the cushions and I felt like I wanted to disappear through the floor. He then looked at Tibby, still asleep in his little corner on top of the couch. Copia moved to sit on the exact opposite side of the cat, as far away as he could, and looked at me, still standing in the threshold. We sat silence for a moment, just looking at each other. I felt like I was being examined and judged.

 

“I-I-I-I’ll be just a minute.” I almost speed-walked back to the bedroom and shut the door. Feeling his eyes on me like that, like he was really, truly, looking at me, felt strange. I felt the pressure of his mismatched eyes leave me as soon as the door was closed.

 

I wasn’t the biggest fan of showing any part of my body these days, so all the clothes I owned hung loosely and hid my form. I didn’t have much in the way of variety either. I put on a pair of grey sweats, a black, long sleeved, pull-over hoodie, and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. The bathroom was attached to my bedroom, behind the door to my living room, and I went to look at myself to try and fix my hair.

 

I sighed at my reflection. I was almost sickly pale and the bags under my eyes could have matched the black around the Cardinal’s eyes. I massaged the darkened skin, hoping to erase the discoloration, but nothing changed. I examined all the freckles peppered over my nose and cheeks, noticing how dark they looked on my pale skin. I sighed again.

 

I pulled the hair tie out of the bun on my head, letting my shoulder length light brown hair topple down from the top of my head. I ran a brush through my hair a few times, wincing as it snagged the knots that had built up over several days. When it was all smoothed down, I divided my hair into a top and bottom section, pulling the top half of my hair into a bun on top of my head. I liked my hair this way because it kept the sides of my hair out of my face.

 

“This is as good as it’s gonna get, E.” I said to my mirror counterpart after splashing a little water on my face to feel less gross. I gave one more close inspection to my eye bags and freckles to see if they had magically become less noticeable. They hadn’t. I frowned slightly and moved back in to the living room, hands in the pockets of my hoodie.

 

Copia was in the same spot I left him in, sitting patiently on the couch. I thought of him just sitting their silently, looking down at his hands the whole time I was changing. It seemed like something he would do.

 

“Ready to go?” I said, walking across the living room and giving Tibby a small goodbye pet over his curled up body.

 

Copia stared at me in silence for a moment. The feeling of being examined returned and I thought back to all the imperfections I saw in the mirror. I wanted to turn invisible.

 

“Aren’t you going to be hot in that?” He gestured to my baggy attire. I almost laughed aloud. Was that the only thing he noticed was wrong with me? That I was wearing heaving clothing in the summer?

 

“Aren’t you going to be hot in _that?_ ” I gestured back to him. The full black ensemble he was wearing covered him just as much as my clothing did. He looked down at himself, and then back up at me, giving a small shrug as if to say ‘ _You have a point’_.

 

He rose from the couch and went ahead of me to the front door. Looking at his back as he opened the door reminded me of when I had watched him walk away after I had come to get Tiberius. I never thought I’d see him again after that moment, but he was now in my house. Not only that, he was going to take me to a very public place where there was a very large chance that I was going to have a meltdown in. How had this happened? More importantly, why did I trust him enough to let him take me away from my home? I felt like it was too late to back out now.

 

Copia led the way out of the home, me trailing after him as I was lost in my thoughts. I locked the door behind us and turned around to see a large, black, classic looking car. It had been polished to a brilliant shine, a silver bat in flight glistening on the front of the hood. The nose of the car was long and the interior of the car was lined with black and red leather. Had he driven that across the street, presuming I would agree to go with him? As I approached the vehicle, I noticed, to my dismay, that this car only had room for two passengers and that the space was very cramped inside. Avoiding touch would be a major pain.

 

“After you.” Copia opened the passenger side door and held a hand out to me to help me in to the car. I looked at his leather gloves hand, up to his face, and back down to his hand again. I swallowed awkwardly and moved past him and in to the car. Copia gave an equally awkward cough and closed the door behind me, not saying a word.

 

As Copia moved in to the driver seat, I felt myself instinctively inch away from him and pushing in to the door of the car. I hunched my shoulders, feeling annoyed at my reaction. Copia obviously took notice, looking at me silently for a moment. I only glanced at him for a second before I felt the blush of shame return to my face and I quickly looked away, resting my head against the glass of the window.

  
As Copia turned the key and the car thrummed to life. The old machine had been very well taken care of, it seemed. As the car backed out of the driveway, I watched my house move farther and farther away from me. As we pulled onto the street and my house disappeared from view, the thought came back to me again: _How did this happen?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever met someone so much more nervous than you that you immediately become protective of them, despite your own fears?


	4. Chapter 4 -- Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn and Copia try their best to be functioning adults in public settings. It doesn't turn out very well for one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger warning for this chapter: If you're uncomfortable with people experiencing severe panic attacks and minor mentions of past physical abuse, you might not enjoy the second half of this chapter. 
> 
> This chapter is also almost 4,500 words because I got way too in to it. I considered cutting it in to two chapters, but I liked everything too much to hold off for another week. Maybe one day I will learn to write shorter chapters.

The drive to the pet store couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes, but it felt like it lasted for an eternity. I was sure that Copia thought I was disgusted or afraid of him because of how I had refused to touch him. It didn’t help that I was currently pushing myself in to the passenger side door to keep space between us. I felt a strong guilt about not saying something. Telling Papa was easy; he had tried to apologize and opened the conversation. Copia was just silent. I didn’t have the nerve to bring up my problem myself because I was ashamed of it, and Copia obviously had questions he was too polite to ask. The words we left unsaid hung in the air and made the atmosphere tense, but neither of us dared to say anything.

 

I let my eyes flicker over to Copia once during the short drive and I could practically see the words he wanted to say bouncing around in his head. Cogs were turning, trying to figure me out without saying anything. I could fix it all if I just opened my mouth and explained--about my condition, about Him, about that night. I parted my lips a few times to speak, but my throat dried up and the words died before they could even be made. Luckily, I don’t think he noticed, his eyes trained on the road so hard that I could tell he was making a conscious effort not to look at me.

 

The local pet store ‘ _ Purrs and Paws’ _ was a place I had never been, but it seemed like few people went there since it wasn’t a big chain store. The parking lot only had about five cars in it and I almost let out a huge sigh of relief; if the store wasn’t too small, I could pass through this without any incident. 

 

Copia parked the car, turned off the engine, and exited the vehicle. He started to cross in front of the car and I knew that he was going to try and open my door for me. Such a gentleman.I didn’t want another interaction where I had to avoid his touch, so I scrambled out of the car before he could get to the door. As I closed the door behind me, Copia stared at me with an unreadable expression, his eyes burning in to me. I felt small under his gaze, my face flushing and my heart rate speeding up as a result. Fighting the urge to hide myself inside my hoodie, I walked past Copia and towards the store. He seemed to wait a moment before turning to follow me in. 

 

_ ‘Purrs and Paws’  _ wasn’t a big chain pet store, but they were certainly stocked like one. The store was built like a warehouse, fluorescent lights beating down on the overstocked shelves. There were large signs hanging from the ceiling depicting the sections of the store: dogs, birds, rodents, exotic pets, and cats. I made a beeline toward the cat section, giving a slight glance over my shoulder to make sure Copia was following. He had grabbed a cart at the entrance and I saw him hesitate when we got close to the rodents section, but then follow after me. 

 

We reached the aisles of cat products and both stopped, the tense silence from the car still thick between us. 

 

“So......How many stray cats are in the church right now?” I figured that would be a good place to start. 

 

“It varies.” He replied. I sighed at the useless information.

 

“Well....They’ll need food, however many there are.” I said. Copia nodded and started walking to an aisle that was full of large bags of dry cat food. I was visibly hesitant about going in to the smaller aisles away from the broad walkways we had been using, and Copia shot me a look of concern. I told myself that the chances of the very few people in the store needing to use the same aisle, so chances of making contact with anyone were very slim. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and then forced my legs to move.

 

I had underestimated the different varieties of cat food available. There were hundreds of large bags, all different colors, advertising different advantages of their product. Some were for kittens, some for larger cats, and a lot advertised that they were ‘grain free’. Were cats not supposed to have grains? Or was that a dietary restriction? The sheer amount of choices made my head spin. 

 

“Which one?” Copia broke me out of my thoughts as he stood, arms crossed over his chest, in front of the plethora of options. 

 

“Well....are they usually older cats or younger cats?” 

 

“.....Mostly older.” He had to think for a moment before answering, but gave a small, confident, nod at his answer. 

 

I found a food for older cats that looked like one Tibby would like, trying to look certain in my decision. I was supposed to be the one who knew things about cats. Copia didn’t raise any objections and I loaded a bag in to the cart. Would we need more than one bag? Apparently Copia thought so because he quickly loaded five additional bags in to the cart. 

 

“Isn’t that....a little much?” I asked. 

 

“We don’t know how many cats there are.” He replied simply, as if it should have been obvious. I wanted to retort that, when I was there, I saw maybe three strays and that six bags would be overkill for them. I bit my tongue and just shrugged it off. 

 

“Tibby likes wet food too. I give him it as a treat sometimes.” Copia looked like he wasn’t really going to treat the cats to anything special, but conceded and let me lead the way to the tins of wet cat food. I chose the one I gave Tibby, assuming that it was good, and Copia packed a large box in to the cart. 

 

Before we could leave the aisle, an elderly couple headed our way to look at the wet cat food as well. There wasn’t enough room in the cramped space for all four of us to pass each other. Part of my brain went into panic mode and I was certain I would vault myself over the shelves at any second. I looked over at Copia and he also looked nervous at their approach. It seemed like he didn’t want to have any interaction with these people either. He made eye contact with me and I felt that we both understood each other for a moment. Copia turned the cart in the opposite direction of the seniors and made a hasty retreat and I tailed after him, hands in the pockets of my hoodie and shoulders bunched up to my ears.

 

Once we were out of the aisle, I was struck with how comical the interaction was. A man in gothic church regalia and a girl in clothes two sizes too big for her coming in to a state of panic upon seeing two gentle elderly people. I snickered a little before the laugh burst from my lips and I couldn’t stop laughing. Copia’s ears turned red in embarrassment as he stared incredulously at me. When I had collected myself, trying to regain my breath, I spoke. 

 

“S....sorry, I’m not laughing at you.” I explained. “Well....kind of, I guess.” I gave another short laugh. “It’s just that....we were both scared of two nice looking old people!” I felt my explanation fell short because Copia was still just staring at me. 

 

“It’s....that....Well...We both have similar problems, huh?” I felt a little bit of solidarity with Copia. Sure, bonding over being petrified of people isn’t the best common ground to have, but it was better than nothing. 

 

“I.....suppose...” Copia reluctantly agreed. He thought for a moment before speaking again. “I just get....self conscious, you could say, when I am out in this.” He gestured to his clothes.

 

“Don’t you have like....normal, not Satanist clothing?” 

 

“I do.” He frowned slightly and his brows pressed together, creating deep wrinkles at his mouth and forehead. “Papa demanded that I left immediately and did not give me time to change. Practically pushed me in to the car.” I felt that my assumption that this errand was some kind of punishment was right. 

 

“People...They look at me strangely.” He explained further. “Even without my cassock and Grucifix.” He chewed at his bottom lip for a moment. “At home, I am well loved. But when I leave, it’s...not that way. It’s uncomfortable.” I gave a nod of understanding. I couldn’t sympathize with people being scared of me, but I could understand being uncomfortable around people.

“So...Why are you--?” The question he didn’t ask on the drive over almost made it out of his mouth before he gave a small jump, as if he just remembered something. He pulled up the sleeve on his left arm to check a watch he was wearing. 

 

“ _ Merda,  _ I really should be getting back.” He gave a small groan before giving me a serious look. “Quickly, what else do we need?” 

 

The rest of the shopping trip was very slapdash. We grabbed water bowls, food bowls, litter boxes, and cat litter, throwing grabbing random amounts of each in to the cart. I stopped to look at toys for the cats, but Copia did not seem receptive to the idea of giving them something to play with. We decided we had the essentials and made our way to the registers. On the way,  we passed a small display of cat collars with large bow ties on the front. There was one that was bright yellow with little blue fish on it and the Pet Mom part of my brain thought about how cute Tibby would look in it. I stopped to examine the collar, holding it between my fingers. 

 

“For yours?” Copia had seemed to notice me stopping and came back to get me. 

 

“Yeah, I thought he would look cute in it. Don’t you think so?” I turned to look at him and he had a small frown on his face. I took his silence as a ‘no’ and went to put the collar back on the shelf before Copia snatched it out of my hand. I watched as he tossed the collar in to the cart and continued walking to the front of the store. 

 

“Oh no, you don’t have to buy it!” I called after him, catching up to him after a few moments. “I can pay for it.” I assured him. 

 

_ “Va bene. _ ” He replied, as if that was all he would say on the matter. I was dumbstruck in to silence at the kind gesture. 

 

When we got to the registers, there were a few people ahead of us in line and we had a moment to wait. I felt guilty for him buying a collar for the cat that tried to kill his rat. I had to make it up to him somehow. I remembered how he had looked at the rodent section of the store and was struck with an idea. We were already next in line, but I blurted out “I’ll be right back!” and darted away without waiting for a response. 

 

I jogged through the store to the section meant for rats and scanned the shelves. If I was a rat, what treats would I like? I settled on some that were dipped in blueberry yogurt. Grabbing a bag, I headed back to the front of the store. 

 

Copia was already halfway through checking out by the time I got back. The cashier looked deeply annoyed at the amount of goods we were purchasing and I gave her a look that said ‘Sorry’ as she and another worker loaded the boxes of cat litter back in to the cart. 

 

Once Copia had finished the transaction and was pushing the cart towards the door, I discreetly asked the cashier to ring up the rat treats. I hadn’t purchased anything for someone else in a long time and it was actually a bit exhilarating. I just hoped that I wasn’t overstepping my bounds with Copia by giving him something like this.

 

I placed the small bag of treats in the pocket of my hoodie before heading out to help Copia pack up the car. To my frustration, he would barely let me help. As I would pick up a heavy bag of cat food, Copia would immediately take it from my hands. After about the third time he did it, I spoke up. 

 

“I can lift things, you know?” I said, the annoyance clear in my voice. Copia stopped, bag of food still in his arms, and his eyebrows furrowed again. 

 

“That wouldn’t be right though.” I didn’t understand what he meant and that must have read on my face because he explained further. “You are doing me a favor just by being here. It would be cruel to have you also do the heavy lifting.” For the second time that day, he had left me dumbstruck and unable to respond. I just stood there, stunned, as Copia emptied the cart.

 

The car’s trunk was full to bursting and Copia could barely close it. I almost chided him for buying way more than was needed, but took a seat in the passenger side of the car instead. 

 

“Would you mind...helping me take everything inside?” Copia asked after he sat down in the driver’s seat and shut the door. 

 

“I thought you didn’t want me to do any ‘heavy lifting’.” I retorted, making Copia tense. 

“W-w-well, yes, but I need to get things inside quickly. I have other things to do.” He was meek, ashamed for asking more of me.

I weighed the pros and cons, as I always did before doing anything nowadays. Stumbling through the abbey before wasn’t absolutely terrible and it was large enough that accidental contact would be easy to avoid. Copia had also been so kind to me that doing him another favor seemed like nothing.

 

“Sure.” I said with a shrug. “I don’t have anything else going on.” My only plans for the night were making mac and cheese and watching The Great British Bake Off, which I could do at any time. 

 

The drive back to the abbey was just as silent as the drive there, but the tension was gone. I was still shoved as far away from Copia as possible for fear of touching him, but he didn’t seem nearly as upset about it. I felt the bag of treats in my pocket and wondered when I should give them to him. I still felt the tinge of excitement in my stomach, feeling giddy at the idea of having a surprise for someone. 

 

Copia drove the car down a small alleyway that led to a parking lot behind the massive abbey. Outside of the back doors, I saw Papa and four of the people in masks standing on the stairs. A bit of panic flashed on Copia’s face. He was obviously not expecting anyone to be waiting for him.

 

“Took you long enough to get back, Cardinal.” Papa jabbed at Copia as he approached the car. He saw me in the passenger seat and his entire face lit up “ _ Gattina!!!” _ Copia looked from me, to Papa, and back to me. He obviously wondered how the leader of his church knew me and had, apparently, given me a nickname.

 

“I got lost after finding Tibby...He helped me out.” I explained in a hushed tone. Copia nodded before we both exited the car. 

 

“Had to go ask an expert, eh, Cardinal?” Papa asked. He moved towards me, arms out as if to embrace me. Before he got too close, he stopped, put his arms down, and gave me a smile and a wink. Papa remembering my condition warmed my heart. What Papa said bothered me, though. Copia said that he couldn’t ask for help within the church or it would make him look incompetent. How must he have looked now? 

 

“We ran into each other at the store.” I said quickly. “I met the Cardinal when I got lost in the abbey and my cat attacked a rat of his. I saw that he was getting so many things, so I insisted that I come help him to repay for Tibby hurting his pet.” Papa looked at me for a moment, deciding if he believed me or not. He seemed to trust my words because he broke out in to another smile. 

 

“What a kind  _ gattina. _ Very fortunate for our dear Cardinal.” I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Papa turned away and gestured at the men in the masks. Copia gave me a look of gratitude as soon as Papa was looking away. 

 

The four men popped the trunk of the classic car and started taking things inside. One of them, the tallest, took all six bags of cat food by himself like it was nothing. I meekly grabbed a few of the litter boxes, trying to make myself look useful, and followed the men in to the building.

 

They lead me through a part of the abbey I hadn’t been in when I had gotten lost before. We moved through enclosed hallways before entering a large, open room. It looked like it was the chapel. Dozens of dark wooden pews were lined up evenly, side by side, in front of a large pulpit. A dark red carpet covered the entire room and it felt very plush, sinking a little under each footfall as I walked. White columns were spaced evenly along the walls of the room, stretching up to the ceiling, which was a large dome. Like classic Italian churches, the dome was painted with a mural. Angels and demons attacked from opposing sides. One angel with black wings, cradling the Earth in his arms, was in the center of the conflict. I stopped in my tracks to gape at the mural and determine what Satanic story it might be depicting. 

 

Right after I stopped, though, it felt like a brick wall hit me from behind. One of the men had ran into me because I had stopped so suddenly. I dropped the items I was holding and felt two hands grab me firmly on the shoulders to keep me from falling over. 

 

“Impressive, right? Took them decades to paint that thing” The person behind me chuckled, but I barely heard him. 

 

Hands on my shoulders. 

 

I felt hot panic burn up in me and my mind started to race. I saw white for a moment as fear consumed everything within me.

 

_ He’s going to hit me.  _

 

_ I messed up and he’s going to hit me.  _

 

“I’m sorry....I’m sorry....I’m sorry....”

 

I didn’t realize I was speaking aloud. I had curled up into a ball, arms wrapped around my knees as tightly as I could manage. My breath was coming in deep heaves and my chest felt like there was a hydraulic press pushing into my ribs. Even though my eyes were squeezed tightly shut, waiting for the blow to hit me, hot tears still streaked down my face and into my lap. 

 

“Shit, did you touch her?!” It was Papa’s voice that I heard first. 

 

“I was just...” the man who had grabbed me sounded shocked and scared. I didn’t blame him. He was just trying to help. It wasn’t his fault I was like this. 

 

“Give her room!” That was Copia. 

 

I was suddenly aware of how many people were around me. I tried to slow down my breathing, but the heaving in my chest wouldn’t stop. I forced myself to open my eyes and look around the room. Papa, Copia, and the men in masks were around me in a wide circle, giving me as much breathing room as they thought I needed. The concern I felt from everyone made me feel sick. I knew better than anyone that my fear was irrational now, so my guilt at worrying them sat like a rock in my stomach. My breath was still coming out in deep, hot bursts, but I still tried to speak. 

 

“I’m....I’m fine....” The words were pushed out of me with my panicked breaths. “It’s okay....This happens....I’ll be fine.” I tried to assure everyone, but the occasional tears dripping from my eyes did little to help. 

 

“Come sit for a moment.” Copia, kneeling a few feet away from me, went to offer his hand to me, but retracted it. Instead, he gestured to one of the pews. I gave a slow nod and pushed myself up to a standing position on wobbly legs. I stumbled a few steps and them plopped on to a wooden bench, putting my face in my hands and resting my elbows on my knees. I focused on my breathing as I heard Papa tell the men to continue unloading the car. 

 

I stared down at the red carpet, focusing on keeping my breathing calm and even. Once it seemed relatively normal and my heart rate had slowed, I sat up and took in a deep breath, leaning back against the firm wood and looking up at the mural one more time before sitting up properly.

 

That’s when I noticed Copia, sitting on the complete opposite side of the pew with a glass of water in his hands, waiting patiently. My throat felt like a desert, so I held out my hand for the glass. He gingerly gave it to me, obviously avoiding touching my fingers. He seemed to think I was made of glass myself, ready to shatter at any moment. Maybe I was. I chugged the entire glass of the water, which was pleasantly cold. When the glass was empty, I handed it back to Copia. He still said nothing, but his eyes were intently focused on me. 

 

“Was that like....unholy water or something?” I attempted a joke to break the tension. Copia gave a small laugh, exhaling sharply through his nose. 

 

“You’d know if that’s what it was.” He replied. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. I could see questions bouncing around in his head again, screaming at me through his eyes, but he remained silent.

 

I looked away and let out a deep sigh. “That’s was....embarrassing.” I let out a bitter chuckle, so upset at myself. “I wish I wasn’t like this.” 

 

“You can’t help it.” He said matter-of-factly. “Your body it....thinks you’re in danger....wants you to be safe. You can’t control it.” I looked back at him, surprised at his sympathy. I realized, then, that a man as anxious as Copia would probably have had panic attacks himself. Him choosing to stay with me felt very meaningful because he understood what I was feeling. There was no pressure from him to explain myself, he was just there if I needed him. I felt a warmth in my chest at the thought and could feel myself smiling a little despite myself. I felt myself relax a little, my hands finding their way into the pockets of my hoodie. I had forgotten about the rat treats, and was almost surprised when I felt the plastic bag against my hand.  I looked over at the cardinal, who was still watching me. 

 

“Here. Catch!” I tossed the bag to him, which he caught between his gloved hands. He looked at the treats, taking a moment to realize what they were. His cheeks turned pink as he looked back up a me, not sure what to say. 

 

“Tell Asmodeus that Tibby and I are sorry.” Copia gave a little nod and looked back down at the bag in his hands, still not speaking. 

 

The excitement I felt when buying the gift returned and I felt the warmth in my chest grow. The waves of panic had entirely left me, leaving me drained. I leaned back in the pew and closed my eyes, knowing that I would have to stand up and leave eventually, but refusing to do it now. After a few minutes of silence, a small, polite cough came from Copia and I sat back up, opening my eyes. He looked very shy, his eyes in his lap and his hands fiddling with the bag of rat treats. 

 

“I won’t really have time to care for the strays.” he said. He took a deep breath as if he was gathering courage and looked up at me. “I don’t know if Papa has chosen someone to care for them, but I would like it if it was you, Miss Evelyn.” I was shocked. Did they have people come in from outside the church to do work like this? It seemed unlikely. 

 

“You wouldn’t be doing anything too difficult, I would imagine.” my silence made him nervous, so he tried to convince me. “Just make sure they have food and water and the litter boxes are clean.” I didn’t know what to say, so he pushed harder. “You can bring Tiberius, if you want.” He seemed reluctant to add more cats to the equation, but was determined to have me take the job.

 

Again, I had to weigh the pros and cons. I would be around a lot more people, which means I could be touched more often. I would be around a lot of cute cats, though. But I had very little experience taking care of animals. I wouldn’t be doing anything beyond what I already did for Tibby, though. Also, Tibby would be able to socialize, which would probably be good for him. Not to mention I was bored out of my skull trapped in my home. It also didn’t help that I was intrigued by the church, Papa and Copia especially, and I felt a need to know everything about them. 

 

“I’ll do it.” Copia’s eyes lit up when I agreed. “If Papa agrees, of course.” I added. 

 

“He will.” He replied with absolute certainty. “When you feel up to it, we’ll set up a space for the cats and plan out when you’ll come to care for them.” 

 

I couldn’t help but smile and nod. The warmth I felt in my chest hadn’t died down and I felt it move up to my cheeks. Kindness was something I had mostly deprived of for years, so Copia’s determination to be nice to me was a new and welcomed experience. If even half of the people in The Church were as kind as Papa and Copia had been already, I could see myself being happy spending my time there. And happiness was something I desperately needed.  


	5. Chapter 5 -- Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn wanders the abbey, gets frustrated about her condition, and finds comfort in animals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your comment have been so kind! I can not say enough about how much I appreciate all of your feedback. The story will ramp up from here, so I am looking forward to seeing what you all think!
> 
> Thanks again so much for reading!  
> \--Birdy

Over the next few weeks, I had found myself comfortable within the walls of The Church. They had cleared out a room for the stray cats and had filled it with the food bowls, water bowls, and litter boxes. Because of Copia’s excessive spending, there was an abundance of supplies lining the walls for the cats. I had even brought in some of Tibby’s toys for them to play with. All the strays seemed happy for the attention and being around the playful creatures was the highlight of my day.

 

Copia had worked out a schedule for me so I would arrive to care for the strays when there was a mass happening or most of the abbey’s residents were occupied elsewhere. This made the risk of another incident minimal.

 

Well, it would have if I came to the church, fed the cats, and left.

 

Every day I stayed at the abbey for longer and longer periods of time. I first justified it as giving Tiberius more time to play. He was having an absolute ball playing with the other cats. He tormented the adults twice his size, and they reluctantly went along with him. He seemed thrilled to have friends, and I didn’t want to take him away from them. So, I wandered the church more and more.

 

I got lost a few times, but since I had nothing I needed to do, I wasn’t afraid like I was the first time I got lost in the brown stone corridors of The Church. It was like I was on an adventure, discovering a world very different from my own. I found a library full of the smell of old books, a large music room full of instruments, and an observatory full of scientific equipment and arcane looking devices. It was all fascinating, but I touched nothing in the places I found. I was still just a guest there, and I felt that not everyone welcomed me as much as Papa and Copia did.

 

If I stayed late enough, the halls of the abbey would buzz with activity. The nuns, who I found were called Sisters of Sin, always looked like they had a purpose. They moved with confidence and all of them radiated beauty. They intimidated me. I would always give them plenty of room, sometimes moving entirely against the wall of the corridor to allow them to pass. I would always feel them looking at me, wondering why I was there, but I always looked away from them and met no one’s gaze. No one ever said anything though. I wondered if they were too polite to question my presence or if Papa had told everyone about me.

 

The people in masks avoided me entirely. It seemed like they would disappear the second they saw me. I felt a little guilty about it. I wondered if the man who touched me told the others to avoid me. It was an isolating feeling. But it wasn’t as if I wasn’t used to isolation.

 

I tried to hide the fact I was lingering in the abbey from Papa and Copia, unsure how far they extended their hospitality. I was successful in avoiding them for a week before I was found out.

 

I spent a lot of my time in the clearing of the gardens. It still amazed me every time I saw it. The tight canopy of tree branches above and the walls of vines and flowers made the entire area feel like something separated it from everything else by some kind of magic. I felt peaceful there, which wasn’t a feeling I felt often. One day, I was laying flat on a bench when I heard someone walking through the tunnel towards the clearing. Like a child caught out of bed after bedtime, I jumped off the bench and hit behind one cluster of flowers. I was unsure if they allowed me in the gardens. I felt like I could wander the halls just fine, but the clearing felt so different. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was some kind of sacred place where outsiders should not tread, so I hid.

 

“Miss Evelyn...?” Apparently my hiding spot was terribly because, as soon as the footsteps entered the clearing, I heard Cardinal Copia’s voice.

 

“Uhm..... yeah..... Hello.” I rose from my hiding spot and waved awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I know I should have left by now. I....” I hesitated, not wanting to tell him I had been wandering around and sticking my nose in to anything I could. “Nevermind. I’ll just be going.”

 

“You don’t have to.” His voice was soft, almost childlike in its earnestness.

 

“Well... I’m just here to care for the cats and I’ve already done that, so I probably shouldn’t hang around.” I admitted.

 

“No.... You’re a guest.” He said firmly. “You’re welcome here just as much as those strays are.”

 

“I-I.... Thank you.” I stammered a little, surprised by his tone. “I don’t know if anyone but Papa and you see me as a guest though.” I remembered the looks from the Sisters of Sin and how the masked individuals avoided me.

 

“Papa has told them not to interfere with you.” So he had said something.

 

“Did he tell them about.....” I gestured my hands vaguely to imply my condition and Copia nodded. I felt immediately insecure about hundreds of people knowing about my fears. Now I knew that they looked at me like that because they knew that I was an odd, broken person. I bit my lip and sighed at the thought. We stood in silence a moment, Copia studying me with his mismatched eyes as I continued to chew anxiously at my lip and looked away from him.

 

“Are you... ashamed?” He approached the question timidly, afraid to offend me. I let out a short, bitter laugh.

 

“Yeah... Yeah, I am.” I thought back to how it felt when Papa, Copia, and the masked men looked at me as I broke down on the floor. I felt small, weak, helpless. I hated it. They were feelings that had plagued me during my years with Him and the fact they still haunted me hurt. I felt like I would never be free. The thought of still being under His control gnawed a pit in my stomach and made me want to scream. I stewed in these thoughts and feelings in silence until Copia spoke again.

 

“But... why?” It was an honest question, but I looked at him like he was insane. Even though I could feel my eyes burning holes in to his face at the question, he didn’t flinch. The quizzical look on his face made me angry.

 

“Why?” Another bitter, angry laugh escaped my lips as I ran my fingers through my hair. “I can’t even function!” I spat out the words, walking towards the statue of Lilith so I didn’t have to look at Copia’s face as venom spat from my mouth.

 

“I’m afraid to go to anywhere. I hide from people. I have to over-think everything I do. How many people will be outside? What if someone touches me? What if I’m found? So I stay inside, alone and scared.” I placed my hands on the base of the statue and leaned against it, my shoulder hunched over and I felt hot, angry, painful tears sting my eyes.

 

“I want...” my voice cracked, and I collected myself. “I... I wasn’t even able to hug my brother when he came to get me from the hospital.” A sob built in my throat and I stifled it. “I hadn’t seen him in years and I ran from him when he tried to touch me.” I tensed my fingers, digging them into the stone under them as I felt shame, anguish, and even more anger build in me. I could feel myself trembling.

 

“I just want to be a normal fucking person!” I slammed my fist in to the stone, the pain radiating up my arm. Hot tears were falling from my eyes and down on to the grey stone. “I miss touching people.” I admitted, more to myself than to the person listening. “I used to love hugging people. I absolutely loved being held. But now...” My shoulders heaved as sobs ripped through my throat I could not suppress. I heard Copia’s footsteps in the grass, moving closer, but he hesitated. He didn’t know how to comfort me and I understood that. How do you comfort someone you can’t touch?

 

“Now, touch is so related to pain that I can’t bear it.” I clenched my eyes shut to get the tears to stop. Stood and turned back to look at Copia and the look of concern I saw the last time I broke down was plastered all over his face. His expression filled me with shame.

 

“Don’t look at me like that.” I snapped at him, and he looked startled. He looked away from me and wrung his hands. I now felt even more ashamed. Anyone would have been concerned after what I said. He didn’t deserve my anger.

 

“I... I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m just mad at the situation I guess.” My voice was small and shy as I looked down at my feet. More tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. I kept fucking things up. All I did was make mistakes. A black cloud surrounded my mind, attacking me and reminding me how terrible I was and how I ruined everything for myself. As an assault waged within me, Copia remained silent for a long time.

 

“You can touch animals, though?” A strange question that stopped my toxic thoughts in their tracks.

 

“Yes, animals haven’t hurt me.” I looked quizzically at him, wiping tears from my eyes. He still wasn’t looking at me, but gave a small nod and went to exit the garden.

 

“Where are you--?” I started before he turned around and gestured me to follow him. I reluctantly followed, very unsure of where this was going.

 

We walked for a long time in silence; me following behind him. I could feel some Sisters’ eyes on me, wondering why I was with their Cardinal. I tried to ignore them, though, and kept my eyes trained on the floor and on Copia’s feet as he walked.

 

We went to one of the far ends of the abbey and up a flight of stairs. They lined the second-floor hallway with windows, letting the summer sun flood in. Just to the left of the landing was a sign reading _“Upper Clergy”_. I was still confused, but Copia did not give me time to stop and think. He continued his walk down the corridor until he reached one particular door. It was plain, dark wood, and unlabeled. Copia fished a small key out of a pocket in his cassock and unlocked the door with a light _‘click’._ Copia looked to make sure I was still behind him and then opened the door, gesturing me to step inside.

 

Inside was a bedroom. My confusion tripled upon that realization. A large poster bed was in the center of the room, red and gold sheets tucked nicely into the mattress. To the left was a large, old looking wooden desk. Books were piled precariously on almost every inch of the surface and stacked in towers on the floor surrounding the desk. There was only a little space in the center of the desk that one might use to write on, but just barely. There was a bathroom and a small kitchenette further left of the desk which made this more of a studio apartment. It was sparse and seemed a little isolated, but comfortable enough. The most interesting thing, though, were the cages.

 

There were at least a dozen rats spread amongst three tall metal cages. They had tunnels to crawl through, stairs to higher parts of the cages, and so, so many toys. The rats all gave excited squeaks when Copia came in behind me and closed the door. He grabbed the chair from the desk and moved it across the room close to the rat cages, gesturing for me to sit. I trained my eyes on him as he went to one cage and leaned close to it, his fingers in the bars. He was whispering, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. It felt like he was letting them know who I was or asking their permission for me to be here. Whatever he was saying, his love for the animals was obvious. I hadn’t ever seen him look that happy.

 

Once he had finished his dialogue with the rats, he reached in to a small bin under one cage and handed me a bag: the rat treats I had given him. The bag was open and already half empty, filling me with pride that the rats seemed to like them. Copia them opened one cage and gingerly reached in and picked up a grey rat with patches of white smattered on its fur.

 

“Abigail is the kindest to strangers.” Copia explained as he closed the door to the cage. The rat named Abigail perched herself on Copia’s hand and looked at me curiously, whiskers twitching and ears straight up. Copia knelt down, so he was on the same level as I was and gestured for me to hold out my hand. Abigail seemed to hesitate for a moment, not sure if she wanted to be this close.

 

“Hold out a treat.” Copia whispered, and I opened the bag of yogurt treats, placing one in to my palm. That got her attention and Abigail scrambled out of Copia’s hand and into mine. I closed my hand around her gently once she had grabbed the treat between her paws. She was soft and warm. I could feel her heartbeat steadily in my hand. She squirmed a little in my hand and I looked to Copia, making sure I wasn’t doing something wrong. His eyes focused on me, making sure I was being kind to his pet and that Abigail was comfortable.

 

“She wants to climb on to your shoulder.” He said, as if he could read the rat’s mind. I released my grip on her gently and she climbed up the baggy sleeve of my sweatshirt, treat held securely in her mouth.  I held my arm steady so she wouldn’t fall. Once she had scaled her way up to my shoulder, I felt her sit on her haunches and could hear her nibbling on her treat close to my ear. I turned my head to look at her as much as I could and felt her sniff at my cheek. Her whiskers tickled me right under my ear and I let out a small laugh. I saw Copia sit up a little straighter in my peripheral vision, perhaps feeling proud.

 

“She likes you.” Copia said matter-of-factly after Abigail sat on my shoulder for a few minutes with no troubles.

 

“I’m glad...” I admitted. I held my hand up to my shoulder and Abigail climbed in to my palm. I held her between my two hands in my lap. She had finished her treat, so she curiously walked along my thighs, sniffing the air. Feeling the warmth of her on my legs and feeling her little claws move around experimentally over me filled me with a kind of childlike happiness that only animals can bring. I looked over to Copia, who had a soft and content smile on his face. I couldn’t help but be awed with how comfortable he looked. I had always seen him tense, nervous, or a combination of the two. To see him relax around me felt like it was a sign of trust. The peace of the moment and the love Copia had for his rats calmed me. Copia looked cute and innocent at the moment and I felt my cheeks heat at the thought.

 

“They’ve helped me... a lot.” Copia whispered, his eyes on the rat in my lap. “I’ve had troubles being around people.” I remembered what happened at the pet store and nodded a little. “They’ve been with me through some.... terrible things.” His face went gloomy for a second before he spoke again. “They’ve always loved me more than anyone else ever has and I am forever grateful.” The softness was back in his face and I felt myself blush a little harder.

 

“How long have you been keeping rats?” I asked. Copia’s brow furrowed a little, and he took a while to respond.

 

“A long time.” was the only reply he gave. I remembered when I first met him I couldn’t place his age. I still couldn’t. So I tried to press him.

 

“So... since you were a child?” No response.

 

“How old are you now?”

 

I instantly regretted the question because Copia tensed and I felt him close off, the moment of peace and trust dwindling a little.

 

“Unimportant.” He shook his head and stood, turning back to the cages. He reached in and grabbed another rat, this one a very deep brown.

 

“Abigail and Stella have a very strong bond. They prefer to be together.” He said as he gently placed the new rat on my lap with Abigail. I experimentally pet Stella’s head with two fingers and she seemed happy at the contact. She then sniffed at my fingers and nibbled on them a little. I looked at Copia to ask if she bit me because she didn’t like me touching her, but he quickly explained that small bites were a sign of affection. I couldn’t help but melt a little at the thought of the two rats taking a liking to me so quickly.

 

Abigail and Stella played on my lap for a while before Abigail climbed up my arm again and Stella attempted to get to my shoulder by climbing up my torso. I laughed as their paws pulled at my clothes and I had to stop Stella from climbing in to the neck of my shirt. Abigail took her place back on my shoulder, sniffing at my neck, and nibbling in my ear. Stella had a plan all her own though. The brown rat grabbed on to my hair and scaled my head, finding a new home in the half bun of hair on top of my head. I was happy to let her play there, since my hair was always a mess anyway, but Copia scooped her up and turned her to face him as he held her.

 

“You will get stuck in her hair.” he scolded. “I don’t want to have to cut you out of there.” I chuckled at his seriousness and Copia immediately turned red, embarrassed for talking to his rat.

 

“I talk to Tibby all the time.” I assured him, and he seemed to relax. He gave Stella back to me to pet and then he looked at a clock on his cluttered desk, which could barely be seen between two piles of books.

 

“Ah, evening mass starts soon. I have to go.” I hadn’t really noticed how late it had gotten since the room had no windows. I had stayed much later than I had in the past and I’m sure Tibby was wondering where I was.

 

I handed Stella back to Copia, and he held his hand out to Abigail on my shoulder and she went back to him happily. He placed them both back in their cage, patting both gently on the head before closing the door.

 

“I’ll walk you out?” It was a question rather than a statement, and I nodded in agreement. I didn’t want to get lost again this late at night.

 

“I need to get Tibby first.” I said. Copia did not look enthusiastic about seeing my cat, but nodded and led the way.

 

We walked in silence until we arrived at the room designated for the strays. Tiberius was still there, playing with one of his toys and trying to get the larger cats to play with him.

 

“Time to go, Tibby.” I picked up the white cat who mewled in protest. “Come on, you’ve been here forever.” I said, cradling him in my arms. I looked over to Copia as if to say _‘See? I talk to him.’_ He pivoted away from me, but not before I could see a small flush grow on his face.

 

Copia kept his back to me the rest of our walk. When we arrived at the front doors, we both stood beside each other in silence for a second. We both wanted to say something, but were both too awkward to say anything. Eventually I broke the silence.

 

“Thank you, Copia.” He looked a little confused for a moment. “For sharing your rats with me. It really helped.”

 

“I-I’m glad.” He stammered like the first time we met and turned even more red, looking at my feet.

 

“I’d like to meet them all one day.” I said shyly. I didn’t want to impose on him, but they all seemed so cute and I wanted to know more about them. Copia lit up, finally looking at me.

 

“Yes, I would...I-I-I mean....” He looked away again. “I mean, I’m sure they would love that.” I laughed softly at his shyness.

 

“I look forward to it.” I said. I held up Tibby a little, having him face Copia. “Say bye, Tibbs.” I said, teasingly. Copia stared at the feline for a moment, their mismatched eyes meeting. Then, to my absolute shock, Copia reached out his leather gloved hand and rubbed Tibby between his ears. The cat purred and nuzzled into Copia’s hand and I looked on incredulously.

 

“I suppose he isn’t....terrible.” He mumbled, eyes flickering to me with a shy smile. Before I could chide him for liking a cat, a harsh voice cut through the moment.

 

“Cardinal!” An elderly woman in a smart-looking jacket and skirt was approaching us.

 

“S-S-Sister Imperator.” Copia greeted her anxiously.

 

“Mass starts in 5 minutes and you’re dawdling out here?” The woman, Sister Imperator, stopped a few feet away from us and crossed her arms over her chest. Her aura was powerful and imposing. I did not know if I was meant to leave or wait until the Sister left, so I stood there, frozen and staring dumbly at the two people before me.

 

“Ah, yes.” Copia tried to sound slightly confident, but gave a small, nervous cough. “I was just answering questions. I will be there momentarily.” Sister Imperator looked me up and down.

 

“Is this the cat girl?” she asked bluntly, looking at Tibby in my arms. It took everything in me to give what I hope was a confident nod. She looked at me with an unreadable expression before turning on her heel and walking away.

 

“Come along, Cardinal.” she called over her shoulder and Copia stood to attention.

 

“Y-Yes, Sister.” He had taken a few steps before he stopped and turned back to me.

 

“Tomorrow?” he asked softly so the Sister wouldn’t hear. I did not understand what he meant. “The rats.” He explained, and I nodded in agreement. He gave a small, satisfied smile and nod before Sister Imperator shouted his name and he scurried off after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready, kids. Next week the Real Shit™ starts.


	6. Chapter 6 -- Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn has been having trouble sleeping, but that's about to be the least of her problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next will talk about abuse and violence, so please skip if it makes you uncomfortable!
> 
> Thank you all again for the wonderful comments. It makes me happy that so many people are enjoying my story.  
> —Birdy

I had been having night terrors off and on since leaving the hospital. Someone told me they were common in people who had gone through trauma. They had started by happening, maybe once a week, then three times a week, and now I had them almost every night.

 

It was always the same dream. Or rather, it was a memory with slight variations. I would be laying down on my stomach against the hardwood floor of my old home. I could feel nothing, could not move or look around me, but I knew that I was dying. I would lay there, trembling, waiting to die. Then I would hear his footsteps. Professional, polished shoes on the hard flooring. Most of the time he would stop right in front of me, my eyes forced to look at his shoes and he waited for me to stop breathing. There were times he would walk a circle around me like a vulture waiting for carrion. Sometimes he would stand just out of my line of sight, but I would know he was there. It always ended the same though. He would grab my hair and pull my head up, leaning to whisper something in my ear and...

 

Then I would wake up.

 

No matter how many times I had the dream, I would still wake up screaming. More often than not, tears would spill down my face and my hands would claw at my imaginary attacker. It would take at least an hour for me to calm down and fall back asleep. Some nights I couldn’t even bring myself to close my eyes again. I dreaded feeling tired, knowing I’d be in that house, laying on the floor again, as soon as I closed my eyes. I did everything I could to avoid sleep, but I was only human and always succumbed, eventually.

 

It had been a few weeks since Copia had introduced me to his rats, and I felt we were getting closer. He let me meet the rest of the rats, and would sometimes have me watch after one or two during the day so I could hold them. He would come check on me when I came to feed the strays, always asking how I was doing. We would talk for a few minutes about something-or-other and then he would say he had business to attend to and leave. I told him he didn’t need to come see me if he was busy.

 

“I was close by.” he would always reply, never meeting my eyes when he said it. I didn’t push him, though, because I honestly enjoyed his visits and feeling like I had a friend was uplifting.

 

I tried to hide my exhaustion from Copia, but it was easy to notice. I would sometimes nod off if I was sitting, zone out when he was talking, or just stare off into space idly. I was dropping things, forgetting what I was saying half way through saying it. My brain wanted rest so badly, but could not get it. It felt like there was something ominous following me, reaching out to grab me. I was always on high alert.

 

After about two weeks of consecutive night terrors, Copia finally spoke up.

 

“Are you all right, Miss Evelyn?” he asked after I had poured cat food directly on the floor, missing the bowl entirely.

 

“Huh...?” I started as if just roused from sleep. “Oh, yeah, fine.... just tired.” I would try to sound more awake, but words would sometimes slur as my mouth tired of moving.

 

“Do you need help sleeping? Papa Emeritus I has a powerful sleep aid....” I shook my head at his offer.

 

“I’ll be able to sleep soon. It’ll work itself out.” I had told myself this many times. I understood that my mental state was constantly changing now I was away from Him. Eventually I would be all right and the night terrors would calm down. I was just waiting it out. Copia looked concerned, but didn’t press the issue, which I was thankful for.

 

That night, blackness greeted me in my dreams instead of the house. It was silent, calm, and I felt like I was floating. I felt like I was in a deep sleep for the first time in weeks and it felt wonderful.

 

_Crash!_

 

The sound of shattering glass woke me violently. My eyes darted around my room, looking for the source of the noise. The door to my room was open and I could see into the living room, where one of my front windows had been smashed in, the curtains drifting wistfully as they were exposed to the night air.

 

I saw Tibby at the foot of my bed, sitting upright and looking towards the broken window. I scooped him up in my arms and carefully made my way to the kitchen to grab a knife. I had seen enough horror movies to know that you should never be unarmed in situations like these.

 

I quietly, slowly searched my house, knife held in front of me, ready to attack any intruder. After a thorough search, I found no one. Confused, I went to inspect the broken window. Glass littered half of the living room. The window had been rather large and would have taken a lot of force to break it. Why would someone do that though? I puzzled over it until I saw a large rock on the floor. It was smooth, but heavy. It could have easily broken through the glass. I picked up the stone and, to my horror, found a short message written on the underside in marker.

 

_“Found you ;)_

_-P”_

 

Patrick.

 

My blood ran cold. There was no way he had found me; I went as far away as they allowed me to until the trial was over. I had hidden myself away. How had this happened?

 

_What if he was still here?_

 

My heart rate escalated, and I wondered what to do. Do I call the police? Yes, obviously, but I did not want to stay in my house alone while I waited for a squad car to show up. I needed to go somewhere people would see me. I looked through my broken window and across the street. It was easily 4 AM, but lights in The Church were still on, meaning that someone had to be awake.

 

Not wanting to waste any time, I kept Tibby close and booked it out of my home and across the street. For all I knew, Patrick was following me, so I ran with everything I had. The sound of my bare feet hitting the stone floors of the church echoed around me. Even though the lights were on, I could find no one awake in the halls. I dared not stop or call out for help, so I kept running. The more I ran, the more paranoid I became. Patrick must have seen me run over here. He’s following me now. He had to be. Every shadow became his silhouette and every noise around me was danger. I needed to find a place to hide, make sure I wasn’t followed, and calm down.

 

I sprinted through the archway to the garden, grass soft under my feet. There were no lights in the garden, so it felt like a safe hiding place. I scrambled up the platform of the Lilith statue, hiding behind her full figure as my lungs heaved. I gasped for air. The exhaustion of running and the fear I felt made it feel like no amount of air was enough. I sunk down on my haunches, slumped over, as my deep breaths became sobs.

 

I would never be safe.

 

I could never get rid of him. 

 

I held my hand tightly to my mouth as I sobbed in to it, large hot tears rolling down my face. All I felt was fear and anguish. I collapsed fully on to my knees; the stone scraping the exposed flesh as I held myself and rocked back and forth. I placed Tibby down on the stone where he sat and watched me, wondering what was wrong. I needed to calm down so I could get help. Just like the night terrors, I would ride this out.

 

“Hello...?” A voice cut through the darkness in the garden and I froze, unsure of who it was. I held in my sobs, not wanting to make a sound. I stared at Tibby and silently begged him to not go after the sound, but his little ears quirked up and he bounded off the stone platform and on to the grass. I reached out to stop him, but fell short, cursing under my breath.

 

“Tiberius...?” The voice seemed very confused at the appearance of a white cat. If this person knew my cat, they couldn’t be Patrick. I dared to peer around the corner to see a man in red robes kneeling down, trying to beckon Tibby towards him. He held a lantern that cast deep shadows across his face, but illuminating his eyes. The eyes that matched the cat he was trying to capture.

 

“Copia--!” I sprang up from my hiding place and ran across the clearing to him, stopping a few feet short to keep a distance between us.

 

The cardinal stood and looked me over. Hair disheveled, wearing a baggy shirt and shorts, eyes sunken from weeks of horrible sleep, and tear tracks running down my face. I must have been a sight.

 

“What are you doing here...?” his voice was soft, confused. I opened my mouth, but I felt the sobs build up in me again. Even trying to say what had happened brought more tears to my eyes. Copia waited, patient as always, for me to speak. I couldn’t even voice how relieved I was to see him. Seeing a trusted face was like a lighthouse above treacherous waters. He symbolized safety and hope, two things I desperately needed. I choked up even more at the thought of how grateful I was to see him.

 

“Copia...I...” The words were muffled by small sobs. I took a slight step towards him, wanting to feel safer, wanting to be sure he was there. He quirked his head to the side as I moved closer. I looked him in his eyes and saw concern and caring in them. Tears fell down my face and I could see him struggling to not try to wipe them away.

 

“Copia....” I whispered his name and his eyebrows raised. He still said nothing, giving me the time I needed. What would I have done if he hadn’t shown up? What if I was still in danger? The latter thought surged another wave of panic through me, which made my need for Copia to be with me even stronger. I needed his help. I needed him. That need made me take another step forward and throw my arms around him.

 

“I’m so afraid.” I sobbed into his chest, clutching the fabric of his cassock tightly in my hands. My head was swirling as a lot of sensations hit me at once. The feeling of another warm body against me for the first time in years felt amazing and terrifying. The back of my mind was buzzing with fear at the sensation, but that was drowned out by the roar of terror that Patrick brought.

 

Copia was stiff under me, unsure if he could embrace me. As I continued to cling to him, he carefully wrapped his arms around me, barely touching me. As I continued to cry and tremble, he slowly pulled me closer to him, making sure I wasn't pushing him away. Slowly, slowly, he fully wrapped himself around me, holding me as tightly as I was holding him. I could feel him trembling, but he still said nothing.

 

I buried my face in his chest, muffing my sobs, and found that he smelled of incense and lavender. I could describe the smell as perfectly Copia in nature and it calmed me. My sobs diminished, and I felt Copia tentatively place his hand on the back of my head. He waited a few moments and, when I did not push him away, he ran his hand through my hair as my breathing slowed and the only noises I made were a few sniffles.

 

The feeling of fear from his touch was blaring louder in my brain, but I refused to let go of him, even though I was shaking. I felt an iota of safety for the first time in recent memory and I did not want that feeling to end. As I calmed down, though, my grip on him relaxed and I pulled back to look at him. He was still silent, but I could see his eyes begging to know what was wrong.

 

“He found me.” The words squeaked out of my throat, ragged and sore from sobbing. Copia’s face hardened, and he stepped away from me. I went to follow him, but he held up a hand to stop me.

 

“Stay here.” He said, and I must have looked panicked at the thought of being left alone, because he softly added “I won’t be long.” before leaving the clearing. My legs felt like they wanted to give out, so I shakily took a seat on a bench and waited, trembling with fear.

 

It had only been a few minutes before I could see the light of Copia’s lantern coming back to the garden. He had Papa in tow, still in silk purple pajamas, along with Sister Imperator. Copia carried a blanket and a bottle of water, both of which he handed to me. I wrapped the blanket around me and sipped at the water a few moments.

 

 _“Gattina....”_ Papa whispered softly as he looked at my trembling form. He took a careful step towards me and sat at my feet “What happened, little one?” My eyes flitted around the clearing for a moment. Sister Imperator stood back, arms folded in front of her as she looked me over. Copia stood by her, expression illegible. I looked back to Papa looking up at me with sincere pleading eyes.

 

My voice shook as I gave them a very bare bones summary of what had happened. My ex had broken my window with a rock and I was worried he would hurt me. That’s all they needed to know for now. Once I had explained, Sister Imperator turned on her heel, storming out of the clearing like she was ready to raise hell.

 

“I'll have the Ghouls sweep the grounds and her home. If he’s there, we’ll find him.” Her immediate action shocked me and I stared, jaw slack as she stormed off to do her task.

 

“The police are coming.” Copia said, his voice low. I hadn’t noticed before, but his hands were clenched into fists and her shoulders were shaking. He looked like he wanted to break something. Or someone.

 

“How about you rest while we wait for them to come, eh?” Papa, still keeping a calm tone, stood and gestured for me to leave the garden. I nodded and followed, Copia following behind the two of us.

 

Papa found me a small empty room with a bed and little else. I plopped down on the soft mattress, keeping the blanket that Copia gave me wrapped tightly around me. Copia reached out to touch my face and I instinctively shied away. I looked at him apologetically, and I could see hurt in his eyes for a moment. Now that my emotions had calmed, my condition was still there. One hug didn’t change that. We looked at each other in silence until Papa spoke up.

 

“We’ll let you rest, _Gattina._ ” He gave me a winning smile and headed out the door, gesturing for Copia to follow but he wouldn’t. Papa pulled on his arm and Copia reluctantly agreed. Before he left, he looked me directly in the eye. “I will be right outside the door.” he assured me before closing the door behind him. I closed my eyes to sleep, but I could a heated conversation in Italian happening right outside the door. Since I could not understand, it became white noise as my tired mind allowed me a short while of peaceful sleep.

 

Copia woke me when the police arrived, guiding me to the entrance of the abbey. Sister Imperator was standing on the steps, not letting the police in the building. She did not want law enforcement asking questions about Anti-Popes with skeleton face paint and people skulking around in masks. Copia handed me off to Imperator and cast me one long look before leaving. He probably wasn’t wanted around the police either.

 

Sister Imperator stood by me as I gave an officer an account of what had happened. Imperator handed the officer the rock that had been thrown through the window, retrieved by one of the Ghouls. I gave them the case number for the report that was filed when I was taken to the hospital 6 months ago and the officer bid us a good evening and left.

 

The sun was rising, and I wanted nothing more than to just curl up and do nothing for a solid week. Once the patrol car had fully left the neighborhood, I thanked Sister Imperator for her help and walked down the stone steps to return home.

 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Imperator’s imposing voice made me freeze. I turned to look at her and feebly pointed across the street.

 

“Home?” I squeaked out, and the Sister scoffed.

 

“Like Hell we’re letting you go back there!” I stared at her vacantly, very confused. What was I supposed to do, then? Imperator scoffed again and gestured for me to follow her.

 

“For reasons beyond my comprehension, Papa has given you a purpose within this church.” She walked quickly, and I struggled to keep pace as she continued talking. I wanted to mention that, technically, Copia had offered me the task of caring for the strays, but did not dare correct her.

 

“Anyone who provides service to the church is given our protection.” she explained. “Papa has decreed that you are now under Sanctuary and are not to leave the abbey unaccompanied until we resolve this whole mess.” I stopped dead in my tracks, flabbergasted. They wanted me to stay there? To protect me? I didn’t know what to think and Sister Imperator was not intending on stopping for me to think, so I trotted after her. Imperator lead me down a series of corridors until we arrived at a hallway lined with doors on both sides. She stopped at one, fished a key out of her pocket, and unlocked the door.

 

“These will be your quarters.” she explained, stepping in to the room. The room looked identical to Copia’s. If you removed the excess amounts of books, papers, and rat cages. “Lights out for Sisters is at 11 PM and I expect you to abide by that.” Imperator explained, and I gave a hasty nod. “You can provide your own food and cook your own meals, but we have a cafeteria that serves breakfast at 7 AM, lunch at 12 PM, and dinner at 5.” I nodded again and the Sister looked me over one last time. “Very well.” she said, clasping her hands together. “I’ll give you some privacy.”  She handed me the key and closed the door firmly behind her as she left.

 

The moment I was alone, exhaustion hit me. I had been on a rollercoaster of emotions the last few hours and just needed to sleep. The wooden poster bed frame creaked under me as I splayed myself out on the mattress and closed my eyes.

 

I must have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow because I opened my eyes and could see the sun high in the sky through the window. I stretched, yawned, and looked around to find Copia sitting at the desk by my bed, staring at me. I screamed and fell to the floor.

 

“Copia, what the fuck?!” I yelled as I clambered back on to the bed. He looked apologetic and his thumbs were twiddling nervously.

 

“You didn’t respond when I knocked and I was worried.” He was so genuine that I couldn’t stay mad at him. I sighed and flopped back down on my bed.

 

“How long have you been here?” I asked. Copia shrugged.

 

“You looked very peaceful. Didn’t want to wake you.” He sounded embarrassed. I chucked and I could see a light blush creep up his neck and on to his face. His eyes found the top of the desk and he looked at it intently. He was cute when he was like this. I smiled at the thought and stretched again, trying to wake up my body. Copia’s eyes flickered back as I stretched my arms above my head, my shirt pulling up to expose a small amount of my stomach.

 

“That scar....” Copia muttered and my hand instantly went to cover the long, jagged line close to my hip. Copia was full of questions again, his eyes unable to hide his curiosity, but he dared not ask.

 

“Yeah.... That’s a scar.”  I covered my face with my hands for a moment, debating if I wanted to talk about it or not. After everything that happened, he deserved an explanation. I sat up and turned to face him, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. I lifted my shirt so he could get a better look at the scar. His eyes widened a little at the damaged skin, but he still said nothing.

 

“This...” I gestured to the scar. “Is from Patrick.” I stood and turned my back to Copia, lifting my shirt up around my neck. I heard him make a confused squeak at my suddenly exposed back until I pointed at two round scars on my back: one above my right shoulder blade, and one that was dangerously close to my spine. “These are from him too.” I explained. I heard the leather of his gloves creak as he clenched his fists.

 

I pulled my shirt back down and sat on the edge of my bed, closing my eyes for a second to gather my courage to talk about Him. When I opened my eyes, I could see the curiosity in Copia’s eyes but now there was a quiet anger in them too. I bit my lip and looked away from his intense gaze.

 

“I guess.... after last night... and with you giving me Sanctuary and all...” I closed my eyes again, taking in a deep breath before meeting Copia’s eyes again. “I think you should know about what happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week... we're gonna get even more sad.


	7. Chapter 7 -- Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn's story of abuse at the hands of Patrick Cole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this ENTIRE CHAPTER. This will be the darkest, most heavy part of the entire story. It was very hard to write. I took references from abuse cases, murder cases, and my own accounts of abusive relationships so it gets REALLY REAL. 
> 
> Triggers include:  
> Physical Abuse  
> Emotional Abuse  
> (Mild) Sexual Abuse  
> Death  
> Knives  
> Blood  
> Guns
> 
> I will put a small TLDR at the end of the chapter for those who do not wish to read about all that, but still want to be up to date on the story. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!!

My mother passed away when I was 20. It was an aneurysm, sudden and unpredictable. I was away at college, studying graphic design and marketing, when I got the call. She was gone before I even got on the freeway.

 

She was an incredible woman. My father had never been in the picture, but she still raised two kids and made a successful business. I never understood what the business was before she died. It took off when I was less than 10 years old and all I knew was that we suddenly had a nicer house, nicer clothes, and fewer worries. I wish I had paid more attention.

 

Mom was also a large face in the community. If anyone saw my last name on my ID or credit card, they would always ask me if I was related to _THE_ Rebecca Alliston. She particularly loved the arts. She funded plays, art installations, organized festivals, and commissioned murals. She wanted her children to grow up in a place of creativity, and she was overjoyed when I wanted to take up art. I would draw something new for her every day when she came home from work, and when we cleaned out her office after her passing, I found that she had kept every single one in a drawer of her desk.

 

It was when my brother, Jaime, and I were cleaning out Mom’s house that her Board of Directors came to speak with us. Jaime was a businessman through and through. He was charismatic, quick-witted, and able to sell anyone anything. I thought, for sure, that he would take Mom’s place at the head of her company. However, in Mom’s will, she requested the entire business be handed down to me. She wanted to keep the business in the hands of a woman since there were so many female CEOs in the world. She must have wanted to train me in the ways of the business when I finished schooling at 22, but now it was too late.

 

For the next year, I tried my best to become a leader. I moved in to my Mom’s house and poured over her documents, trying to understand everything. I was never as extroverted as Jaime, so the pressure got to me easily. I also had the Board breathing down my neck constantly, waiting for one slip up. They also tried to earn my favors either by giving me things or trying to hit on me. Jaime was my rock during that time, but it still ended up being too much.

 

The Board voted to depose me before my 22nd birthday, and they honestly made the right choice. Jaime took my place. It was where he should have been all along. It relieved me to have the pressure off of my shoulders, but felt like I had let down my mother and her memory. Over the next few days, I felt eyes on the back of my head and whispers all around me. Everyone knew that they had deposed me and were saying how much of a disappointment I was compared to my mother.

 

Returning one night to my mother's home, I couldn’t bare to be around her belongings. I could barely stand to be in the town that just knew me as Rebecca Alliston’s daughter. Everyone knew that I had failed her. I couldn’t face that anymore.

 

I packed up my things that night. I left Jaime a voicemail apologizing, but asking him not to come look for me. I removed everything from my savings so I couldn’t be tracked down. From there, I got a car to the airport and bought a ticket for the first flight that left. I thought I needed a fresh start away from my family’s name. It was the biggest mistake of my life.

 

I flew around the country, hopping from hotel to hotel, never feeling quite at home anywhere. I wanted a place I could do my art and be happy. I thought I would know my new home as soon as I saw it.

 

About a month in to my adventure, a man approached me while I was sitting in a cafe, drinking a coffee to get over my jetlag, and sketching. He was muscular, with a strong jawline, and high cheekbones. His dusty blonde hair and golden brown eyes dazzled in the midday sun and he stunned me.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t usually do this...” His voice was melodious and I could have listened to it forever. He gave a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck nervously.

 

“I noticed you as I was walking by and... I just had to talk to you.” I felt myself turn several shades of red. This man, who looked like the gods sculpted him, had to talk to  _me?_ I shyly asked him to take a seat, and he started chatting my ear off.

 

We talked for hours about anything and everything. He looked through my sketchbook and asked about my inspirations. I asked him about his work and he said he was the head of online security for a bank. We spoke about favorite movies, books, places, and things. It felt like we had been friends for decades. The sun was going down by the time he checked his watch and said he had to leave for dinner with friends. We hugged, I was a hugger back then, and he gave me his number, smiling brightly as he walked away.

 

His name was Patrick Cole, and as I watched him walk away, I knew in my heart that I had found my new home.

 

I stayed in an extended stay hotel for as long as I could. My funds were dwindling, so I got a job at the cafe where I met Patrick. Serving coffee wasn’t a skill I really had, but it wasn’t difficult work and they let me draw intricate designs on their special’s board when business was slow.

 

I would see Patrick nearly every day. We would usually meet at the cafe and talk, or he would take me to dinner after my shift. If he couldn’t meet me after work, he would try to call me at least once so we could talk before I went to bed. He was everything I had in that city, and I was happy with that.

 

After dating for a few months, I let slip I had been living in a hotel since before we started seeing each other, and Patrick sound offended.

 

“I have so much space at my place! You should come stay with me. I won’t charge you rent, just pay for utilities and whatever food you might need.” I only had enough money to stay in the hotel for another month, even with my job, so it was an offer I was happy to accept.

 

Patrick’s home was gorgeous. A small, two-story, Victorian style townhouse. The floors and staircase we all a dark wood. I used to love how it sounded under my shoes. He had it decorated by a professional, so every piece of furniture was beautiful. There was a large living room with a luxuriously soft couch and a mounted flat screen TV over a fireplace, a dining room and kitchen that was always sparkling clean, and the upstairs bedroom and bathroom were made to feel modern, but cozy. We even had picturesque neighbors connected to the northern wall of the townhome. They were a sweet old couple who would wave at me every time they saw me. It was like I had walked in to a magazine. I felt like I had hit the jackpot.

 

Once we lived together, Patrick would drive me to work every morning and pick me up when the cafe closed. He was always making sure of where I was. It felt like he was just being protective of me until I went out with a female co-worker one night.

 

I had told Patrick that I would be home by 11, but my phone died and my friend and I had a few too many drinks to keep track of the time. When I got home, around 2 AM, Patrick was _furious._ He screamed at me about how much I had worried him, how terrible I had been for making him wait up for me. I tried to apologize, but every word out of my mouth seemed to make him more upset. He got so angry that he threw a plate against the wall, shattering it to pieces. I was shocked, but Patrick said nothing. Instead, he locked himself in the bathroom for the rest of the night while I cleaned up the shattered china. I should have realized something was wrong then.

 

But it was just one night, right? Sometimes people lose their temper and he was just worried that something had happened. Every other day he was kind, charming, and the model boyfriend... wasn't he?

 

Almost a year in to our relationship, another incident occurred. We were at some get together for the bank Patrick worked for. It was at a high-end restaurant and the wine was free flowing. Patrick had left me to chat with some of his partners, so I was standing awkwardly by myself, nursing my wine glass. One of his male coworkers recognized me as Patrick’s girlfriend and came to talk. He was also in to art and graphic design so we traded tips and talking about our processes. Out of nowhere, Patrick appeared. His face was red from drinking and he looked ready to kill someone. He wretched his coworker way from me, taking my glass of wine and smashing it on the ground. The entire party went silent and looked at us as Patrick roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the restaurant without saying a word.

 

“Patrick, what the hell was that?” I spoke in a hushed tone once we were outside so that his partners wouldn’t hear us arguing.

 

“I know what you’re doing.” His fingers dug into my arm and I could tell it would bruise.

 

“What am I doing?”

 

“I leave you alone for five fucking minutes and you’re already chatting up some other guy?” His accusatory tone lit a fire in me.

 

“Why would you even think that?” I said, incredulously. “He works with you, Patrick, and you left me alone so we were just making small talk.”

 

“Oh, so I can’t trust you alone?” His grip tightened, and I winced. “I need to keep you right next to me to make sure you aren’t going behind my back?”

 

“No!” I felt tears in my eyes, both at the pain in my arm and at how little Patrick thought of me. “I would never cheat on you, ever. I don’t know where you even got that idea.” He had nothing to say after that. He continued to fume, still dragging me by the arm as he got us a car home.

 

The car ride was silent, but I could feel the waves of anger coming from him. I tried to scoot away from him to give him space, but he still had a vice-like grip on my arm and would not let go.

 

When we arrived home, he continued to drag me through the front door. Slamming the door behind us, he glared at me. The angry look in his eyes made me tremble. He stared me down for a few minutes before he dragged me upstairs. We stood in the doorway to our bedroom as he leaned in close. I turned my face away from him, screwing my eyes shut.

 

“Don’t _ever_ fucking lie to me.” He growled in to my ear. Before I could even process what he had said, he slammed the door to the bedroom and I could hear the lock turning. I begged and pleaded for Patrick to let me in, saying I was sorry, but he didn’t open the door that night. Exhausted from crying, I fell asleep on the couch in the evening dress I wore that night.

 

I tried to shrug it off as him having too much to drink and tried to make sure he never had too much wine after that. Then things got worse.

 

It was around that time that Patrick told me that utilities had gone up. What I would have to pay now was close to my entire paycheck to cover my portion. When I protested, saying I wouldn’t have money for other expenses, he put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a winning smile.

 

“Well, then I’ll just take care of all that for you, babe.” When I tried to protest again, asking if he could pay a larger portion of utilities so I would have spending money, his grip on my shoulder tightened.

 

“Why do you need extra money?” his tone was normal, but there was a hint of malice behind his eyes. “Is there something I won’t be able to buy you? Something you’re hiding from me?”

 

“No... No, there’s nothing.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” He pushed me away with enough force that I hit the wall. “So, you ask me for anything you need, right?” I nodded and his smile returned.

 

It was then I was afraid.

 

Patrick proposed to me in a lavish, public fashion one year and six months in to our relationship. In the middle of a crowded shopping center, all eyes on me, I could not say no. I think he planned it that way. That way I would be forced to say yes.

 

I think he was trying to get me pregnant. My birth control disappeared one day, and I had no additional money to buy a backup. I urged Patrick to use condoms, but he always said they made sex worse for him and that he would be careful. He never was though. He would finish inside me ‘on accident’ more often than not. The thought of carrying his child made me sick, so I tried to turn him down whenever he tried to have sex with me. It never went well. He would guilt me for being a bad partner and not fulfilling his needs. If that didn’t make me relent, then he would hit me until I agreed. The first time he openly struck me was when I told him I was too tired to have sex that night. I stopped resisting him after a while.

 

We were close to our two-year anniversary, and I was trying everything I could to leave Patrick. Without money, my options were limited. I tried calling my brother, but he never responded. I assumed he was upset about me abandoning him. I couldn’t blame him. All other family members I tried to call either did not answer or their numbers had been changed. I thought about calling the police, but felt that Patrick would intimidate me in to retracting any statement I made and then punish me afterwards.

 

I lived mostly at home at that time. Patrick made me quit my job when they hired a man he deemed ‘too attractive’ to trust me around. He then had security cameras placed in the home. He said it was to make sure I was safe when he wasn’t around, but it was obviously just to monitor my movements. What would I do anyway? I had no money, no car, no friends. I became a perfect housewife. I dressed how he wanted, cleaned all day, had sex with him whenever he asked, and I was dying more and more every day. Every time he would approach me, I would flinch. If he noticed, he would ask me if I was afraid of him. I had to say no, but I truly feared every move he made and loathed each time he touched me. I was getting close to my breaking point.

 

We were out at the grocery store when I saw the first glimmer of hope I had received in years. On a local bulletin board, someone had posted a flyer for a women’s shelter. I noticed it on our way in and, when I felt I had waited long enough, I asked Patrick if I could use the restroom. He agreed, and I had to stop myself from sprinting to the front of the store. I took one of the tags with the phone number for the shelter and stuffed it in my purse. I had a way out, I just had to make my move.

 

The next day, when Patrick was at work, I snuck in to the bathroom to call the women’s shelter. He hadn’t installed cameras in that room because he knew I would have been suspicious and it worked to my advantage. When I told the shelter I had no money or transportation, they assured me they could help. They would send a volunteer with a car to a certain address close to my home to pick me up. They avoided picking me up at home, just in case Patrick would see the car and use it to track me down somehow. I knew Patrick would not be home until after I would have been picked up, but I agreed to their terms.

 

Feeling full of nervous energy and excitement, I packed up as much as I could. Patrick had bought me a lot of expensive clothes. I didn’t care for them, but I figured I could sell them so I could get enough money to get far enough away from Patrick and the city he lived in. I had been shoving things in to a suitcase for about 30 minutes when I heard the front door open and close.

 

“Babe!” I heard Patrick call up, a harshness in his tone as I heard him come up the stairs. He must have seen me packing through the security cameras. I thought he had worked farther from home. I thought I had enough time.

 

I went in to a full panic mode, not sure what to do. I had to get out of there. The car would be at our meeting place in a half hour. Maybe I could get past him, run out the door, and hide until the car arrived. The only thing on my mind was escaping him, so no other plans came to mind.

 

I zipped up the suitcase just enough to keep it closed and tried to bolt out of the bedroom. Patrick blocked my way down the stairs and I froze in terror when I saw he had a knife in his hand.

 

“Now, dear.” He took slow, careful steps towards me. “Where are you going?” My muscles were suddenly too weak with fear to hold up the suitcase and it slipped from my fingers. I backed against the wall like a mouse trapped by a cat. He took another step towards me and I shook my head.

 

“N-Nowhere.” I replied. I had been conditioned for two years to not anger him. It was how I survived.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Patrick stepped a little closer, almost to the top of the stairs, when something snapped in my brain. I was leaving him. If it was in a car or in a body bag, I did not care at that moment. I could not live like this any longer.

 

Adrenaline rushed through me as I pushed off the wall and made a dash for Patrick. He instinctively held out his hands to brace himself for impact. I felt a sharp pain in my side as I put all my weight against Patrick, making him stumble down a few steps and smash in to the bannister.

 

Patrick’s eyes went wide as he looked at me and my side throbbed. I looked down and sat the knife embedded in my torso. Blood was already spreading through the wound and on to my shirt. It shocked me to see a foreign object sticking out of my body. I don’t know how long we were staring at the wound, but Patrick covered his mouth and cried.

 

“Oh, babe...” Large tears rolled down his cheeks. “Look what you made me do...” Pure anger surged through my mind at his words. I looked him dead in the eyes with all the hurt and fury I could muster.

 

“I haven’t made you do shit.” My tone was harsh, and he deserved it. “I’ve done nothing wrong for two years and you’ve done nothing but abuse me. I’m done.” I started walking down the stairs. It took considerable effort to move, but I was determined to leave.

 

“But... You’re hurt.” Patrick said feebly.

 

“No shit.” I spat back at him, almost to the bottom of the staircase.

 

“Let me help you!” He pleaded, and I laughed at him.

 

“I don’t need your ‘help’, Patrick. Fuck off!” With one fluid motion, I remove the knife from my side and turned to throw it at Patrick. I could feel even more blood saturating my shirt and running down my leg, but I was too fueled by anger and adrenaline to care. Patrick scrambled away from the knife and disappeared down the hallway. I moved as quickly as I could to the front door. With the now open wound in my side, I could not move quickly, but I hoped that I had just stunned Patrick into letting me leave.

 

I was ten feet away from the door, practically free, when I heard two sharp, loud explosions behind me. I fell to the ground, having been hit with a sudden strong force. It felt like a truck had collided with me. I did not know that Patrick kept a gun in the house, otherwise I would have hidden it or taken it with me. It was too late for that now though.

 

I hit my head hard on the wood floors as I dropped like a sack of potatoes, two fresh wounds in my back. I could feel blood pooling below me and could feel the liquid collect on my back. This was what I saw in my nightmares. I was face down on the floor, knowing I was going to die. But I accepted it in the moment, and felt at peace. Death was also an escape from him. However, unlike my dream, Patrick didn’t stay to watch. His polished shoes tapped frantically past me and I heard the door close behind him. In that moment, I was alone. Truly alone. I felt tears trickle out of my eyes and I apologized to my mother and brother over and over in my mind.

 

_I’m sorry things ended this way._

 

_I’m sorry I disappointed you._

 

_I love you._

 

And then, blackness.

 

My vision was blurry, but I could hear beeping sounds around me. I blinked a few times, seeing a figure standing close. I blinked a few more times to clear my vision, expecting to see one God or another welcoming me to the afterlife. Instead, I saw a police officer.

 

I was in a hospital.

 

I was alive.

 

The sweet old couple next door had heard the gunshots and called the police. When they arrived I was unresponsive, with a faint pulse. They had rushed me to surgery to close the knife wound and remove the bullets from my back. They said I lost so much blood they thought I would never wake up, but I did. Nothing short of a miracle. I sobbed in relief, knowing I was finally free from Patrick.

 

As I became more lucid, however, I realized that Patrick had left me with more than just the wounds on my body. A nurse came in to do some kind of test, and when she touched my hand, I screamed. White hot fear, the fear I am familiar with now, surged through me and I screamed my lungs out. I clawed at my IV and my stitches, wanting nothing to touch me at all. I had to be sedated multiple times because I would panic the second someone tried to touch me. When I wasn’t screaming, I was sobbing. The realization that he had scarred me so badly tore at my heart. The doctor’s assured me that the fear would fade as I distanced myself from the situation. Haphephobia was rarely a permanent condition. If I knew that, almost 9 months later, I would still have live with my fear, I would not have let myself feel hopeful.

 

I was in the hospital for a week as they treated me for physical and psychological abuse. The police took a report and arrested Patrick, who made it out on bail just as I was leaving the hospital. The hospital had contacted my brother, who was my emergency contact, and he flew across the country to help me settle down. His intent was to take me back home, but they advised me to stay close until they brought Patrick to trial, just in case they needed me for questioning.

 

Jaime pawned my engagement ring and all the things I had packed in the suitcase the police retrieved from the home. He used the money to put down a deposit on a home outside of the city, but not far enough away I would be out of touch with the trial. He was understanding of everything after two years of not speaking. I think he felt guilty for not answering my calls sooner.

 

Once I was discharged, Jaime left me at my new home. He wanted to stay, but he still had a company to run, and I understood. I spent my first week entirely alone and miserable. One of my old coworkers from the cafe heard what had happened and reached out to my brother for my contact information. She came to visit one day and saw my miserable state. It was then she suggested I get a companion and offered to drive me to the animal shelter to pick out a furry friend. She suggested a cat, but I shook my head and insisted that I would get a dog.

 

But we know how that turned out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary for those not wanting the graphic details:  
> Evelyn's mother passed away, leaving her in charge of her business. She wasn't good at her job, was voted out of her position, and ran away in shame. She met Patrick; they moved in together, and after two years of being abused, he attempted to kill her for trying to leave. Police took her to a hospital, now with her phobia of touch from the experience, and is now waiting for Patrick to be put on trial so she can go home. 
> 
> I know this was a rough one, but we get fluffy from here, guys!! Thanks for sticking by this and for all your positive feedback. I really appreciate it


	8. Chapter 8 -- Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn begrudgingly begins the road to recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for the lateness of this chapter! I have been going through some things and lost a bit of motivation. I am going to try to get two chapters out next week to make up for it! Thank you all for waiting!!
> 
> \--Birdy

Copia looked like a tightly wound coil as I told him of my past with Patrick. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions. He just became more and more tense. I could practically see the veins in his head pop out; his fists clenched so tight they might burst the seams of his gloves.

 

“Are you okay?” I asked. Obviously my story was hard to hear, but Copia’s reaction was not what I expected. He wasn’t crying or saying how sorry he was for my terrible experience. He was angry. Furious. He took in a deep breath and relaxed his hands, folding them in his lap.

 

“Yes, I am fine.” his voice was terse, and he rose from his chair. “Excuse me.” His movements were controlled, robotically so. He was stifling his anger to not upset me. His aura seethed “don’t fuck with me”, so I did not question him as he opened the door to my room to leave. As soon as the door opened, the booming and jovial voice of Papa came through the door.

 

Terrible timing on his part.

 

“Ah, Cardinal! Excellent!” His overly loud voice echoed in the hall. “Sister Imperator wanted to speak to you about the Ghost project!” Copia said nothing. I wasn’t sure if he could see past the anger built up inside him. The cardinal walked past Papa without even a second glance as Papa entered my room, Tibby cradled in the nook of his elbow. He looked concerned as he watched Copia leave, but was all smiles as soon as he looked at me.

 

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty has woken! This little one was missing his _madre_.” He placed Tibby in my lap and grabbed the chair previously occupied by Copia, pulling it even closer to my bed so we sat face to face, almost touching knees. Papa seemed to enjoy getting as close as he could without making me uncomfortable.

 

“Did you know you sleep like a log?” He teased. “Ghouls have been in and out all day and you did not wake once.”

 

“I actually haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.” I admitted.

 

“Of course you have good dreams here. It is safe.” His smile was soft as he leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and rested his chin in his hands. Wouldn’t his paint get all over his gloves?

 

“We have important things to discuss.” He looked directly in my eyes and it was very intense. I wanted to shy away and hide under the covers.

 

“About your things, _gattina_ \--” he started.

 

“Oh, shit!” The realization I would probably have to move some of my clothes and food over from my home hit me square in the face. “I’ll bring things over as soon as I can.”

 

“No, no, no, no.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “This is already done.”

 

“Already done?” Papa stood and opened the door to a closet, showing some of my clothing hung up, but the majority were in a hamper on the closet’s floor.

 

“This is what we need to speak of,  _gattina._ " He gestured at the closet. 

 

“I.... haven’t done laundry in a while.” I admitted.

 

“No!” Papa said emphatically, grabbing a very large sweatshirt and holding it up. “This is what I want to talk about. Why do you dress like this?” He shook the sweatshirt for emphasis. I didn’t want to explain my trauma for the second time in one day, so I just shrugged.

 

“I don’t enjoy being seen. I don’t want attention.” Which was true. He didn’t need to know why at that moment.

 

“ _Vedo_.” He contemplated my statement. “ _Si, vedo_. You do not want to be noticed so no one will try to touch you, yes?”

 

“Yeah, that’s about right.” There were other factors why I wanted to hide away in over-sized clothing, but he was close enough. He thought about this for another moment, placing the sweatshirt back in the closet.

 

“I want my church to be a place of healing for you, _gattina_.” He was still facing the closet, inspecting the clothing. “I do not think you can heal by hiding.” He turned around with dramatic flare. “So!” He clapped his hands together. “New clothes.”

 

“What?” I felt like I was on one of the TLC makeover shows I binge watched on weekends. I always wondered if those people’s lives really improved after the cameras turned off. I thought of the ‘healing’ those shows provided. New clothes, some makeup, and compliments to boost their confidence. I didn’t think that would be enough for me.

 

“I don’t want to be some kind of project, Papa.” Papa looked at me, very confused, and sat back in the chair opposite me, chin back in his hands.

 

“No, not "project”." Papa used air quotes for emphasis before his face was back in his hands. He studied me, looking like he was trying to find the right words to say “I promised to not tell, but...” He weighed his words again. “The Cardinal asked for this.”

 

“Copia?” This entire situation had no trace of Copia on it anywhere. “He asked you do _this_ specifically?”

 

“Well, no.” Papa shrugged. “He asked for help, though.” He sat upright in the chair. “He tells me about your conversation. How you do not like your...” He gestured at me, not knowing the right word. “Your condition.” It reminded me of my embarrassing break down in the gardens the day Copia introduced me to his rats. I shrugged at Papa like I had said nothing of the sort, but Papa continued, regardless.

 

“He asked last night, before the police came.” He explained. “Said you had touched him, so there was something we could maybe do. He was almost crying, _gattina_. Very passionate.” He chuckled at the thought and looked me over to gauge my reaction. “Of course, I cannot say no to him. He looked like he would kill me if I refuse. But I wanted to help, anyway. So I say I will keep you in my church and we shall help.” He smiled at me and I was stunned. Copia asking Papa for help? It seemed like they didn’t get along at all. I was touched.

 

“So, step one of help!” Papa sprang up from his chair. “Confidence! New clothing always helps confidence.” That hadn’t been the case for me in the past, but I felt I couldn’t say no to his generosity. 

 

“But, Papa....” He looked down at me, still sat on the bed, and I twiddled my thumbs nervously. “I don’t think I’m in a state to go out right now.” I looked down at my hands and sighed. The night before had been so draining that I did not have the energy to go out in public.

 

“You think I cannot bring clothing here?” Papa sounded smug. He was proud to show that I underestimated him. “Your clothes now are too big, so I could not get your sizes, but I gave my best guess. Come.” He gestured for me to follow him.

 

Tibby had fallen asleep on my lap, so I had to move him off. I carefully picked him up, and he meowed at me in a way that showed his displeasure. Despite the protest, he curled up and fell back asleep on the bed almost instantly. Papa had already left the room, so I sprung up and went to follow him.

 

Papa led me to a large, dark room. He flipped on the lights to reveal an auditorium with a stage at the front.

 

“This is our practice space. Dressing rooms are here.” He explained, walking me up the stairs and behind the band setup that was currently on the stage. I was reminded that the church had a successful metal band. Thinking of Papa singing and preening around on a stage seemed just his style. We were only on stage for a minute, but I caught a glance of the empty seats that could house a crowd of about 100 people. The thought of performing on that stage was terrifying.

 

Papa fished out a key from his pocket and unlocked a door. The dressing rooms were brightly lit. Vanities with mirrors lined in light bulbs lined one wall of the doom. Towards the back there was a changing room. The rest of the room was a sitting area. A plush red couch and two matching high-backed chairs surrounded a coffee table. On the table was a tower of clothing. It amazed me that it hadn’t fallen over.

 

Papa was destroying the carefully constructed clothing tower as I looked the room over. He threw garments on the backs of the couches and the chairs. He seemed to have a system, but the system only made sense to him. Once he had organized everything into what seemed like chaotic piles, Papa deftly pulled articles of clothing from the bunches and handed them to me.

 

“You want me to try these on in front of you?” I asked. I was not sure how I felt about Papa judging me like a mother fitting their child for their first day of school outfit.

 

“No, no. You change in there.” Papa gestured to the curtained changing room. That wasn’t what I meant, but I figured I would at least humor him after all the effort he put in to this.

 

I felt like a Barbie doll as Papa had me change from one outfit to the next. He constantly remarked at how much better I looked when my body could be seen. I thought of those TLC shows again. How much of this was real praise? Looking at myself, I felt odd. I hadn’t seen this much of myself in a long time. I had been hiding away behind baggy clothing since I left the hospital, so seeing the lines of my body was bizarre. I couldn’t say I was uncomfortable, but I wasn’t comfortable either.

 

Papa was handing me my fifth or sixth change of clothes when the sounds of drums and heavy bass made the room shake ever so slightly. I looked at Papa, confused.

 

“Band practice.” He shrugged.

 

“They’re practicing without you?” I would have felt bad if Papa had shirked other duties just to look after me.

 

“Ah, no.” I couldn’t read the expression on Papa’s face. “They are training my replacement.”

 

“What? Why are you being replaced?” From the cursory search I had done online, I saw that the current Papa, Papa Emeritus III, was the most popular singer the band had ever had. He had even helped them win a Grammy. Replacing him seemed like an odd decision.

 

“I am not serious enough about the project, they say.” Papa shrugged again. “I was just having fun with it.” That made me think Papa was having insane benders on the church’s dime. I wouldn’t put it past him. “And so...” he sighed “Our sweet Cardinal will take my place. He is more devoted than I.”

 

“Copia?” I was shocked. Copia was one of the most nervous people I had ever met besides myself. It scared me looking at 100 empty seats. How would he fair in front of a crowd? Could he even perform at all? I wanted to ask a thousand questions, but Papa just shooed me off and told me to change.

 

The drums and bass kept rocking the dressing room through the next ten outfits Papa had me try on. I didn’t know putting on and taking off clothes could be so tiring. I could admit that Papa had good taste in fashion though. I was warming up to the new clothing the more I tried them on.

 

“Okay, okay. Last one.” Papa must have been able to see how burned out I was getting from playing dress up. He held up a dress to me and I looked at him incredulously. Everything he had given me covered up most of my body, but this dress would show my shoulders and legs.

 

“I know, I know. It is a big stretch.” He saw my nervousness and tried to reassure me. “I think he will like it.” He gestured his head to the door, indicating the drums and bass that continued to thump around us.

 

“Who-? Copia?” Papa said nothing, just held the dress out. “Why do you care what he would like?”

 

“I do not care.” He said bluntly. “But I think that you do.” He thrust the dress in to my hands and waited for me to change. I held the fabric in my hand, nerves building within me. Papa crossed his arms as if to show that he was not budging on the subject. I stared at him for a minute more before heading back in to the changing room. It was just a dress. Even if Papa had me keep it that didn’t mean that I would have to wear it where other people could see me in it.

 

Much to my dismay, the dress fit perfectly. If it was too big or too small, I would have been able to have an excuse to not keep it. I looked myself over in the mirror for a moment. The dress was white with red polka dots with red trim on the hem and the top of the bodice. It was a classic cut, tighter at the bust and loose around the hips. There were no sleeves, just two very thin red straps. Seeing that much exposed shoulder and arm was unnerving. The skirt also fell just below my knee, so I could feel a breeze around my legs. I felt exposed. The more I looked at myself the more I realized that I would have bought this exact dress before I had met Patrick.

 

I continued to stare at myself. My hair had fallen out of the bun from last night, so it hung down just above my shoulders. My hair was usually a light brown rat’s nest, but it didn’t look too bad at the moment. A little frizzy and messy, maybe, but acceptable. The white of the dress also made my green eyes shine and, for a moment, I felt pretty.

 

“Well?” Papa was impatient, and I shyly moved out of the dressing room. Papa beamed when he saw me. “Yes, that is it! _Perfecto_! How do you feel?”

 

“Not terrible...” I admitted. “Can I change back in to my old clothes now?” I didn’t expect to be wearing any of my new clothing out in the church just yet, but Papa tutted at me.

 

“No moving backwards, gattina.” He said. “First step. Confidence. You cannot be confident in those baggy things.” My eyes flickered to my pajamas, thrown in a crumpled heap on the floor. I made a move for them, but Papa blocked my path. He knew I wouldn’t try to push him away, and he used that to his advantage. I glared at him, but he was even more stubborn than I was and wouldn’t budge.

 

“Can I, at least, change in to something that covers me more?” I asked and Papa shook his head.

 

“No, this one is the best one. Must start with the best foot forward, yes?” He saw the flash of terror across my face. “Do not worry, little gattina.” He smiled a toothy grin at me. “People will naturally look at me before they look at you. I attract much more attention, no?”

 

He wasn’t wrong. His personality alone was enough to draw all eyes to him. His heterochromatic eyes and skull face paint also made him stick out much more than a girl in a dress would.

 

“Alright.” I agreed. I did not know what would happen when I left the dressing room, but I trusted that Papa would take care of me.

 

As the door to the dressing room opened, the full force of the band’s playing hit me. It was loud, much louder than it was in the insulated room. I could see Papa talking but could not hear him. He went to lean in to speak in my ear, but realized that might be too close. He gestured towards the stage. Was he expecting me to walk out on the stage in the middle of the band practice?

 

I shook my head and crossed my arms in an ‘X’ to show that, no, I would not be seen by that many people at once. Especially with Copia being one of those people.

 

Papa just nodded, gesturing towards the stage again, but I stood my ground. He huffed and mouthed “NO OTHER EXIT”  with as much emphasis as he could. Had he done this on purpose? Maybe I could just sneak by in the middle of a song without being noticed and run out of the theater before anyone could say anything. I begrudgingly nodded and followed him.

 

Papa stopped just at the edge of the stage curtain and I came to a halt behind him. He was watching the performance. I watched the Ghouls play with a massive amount of energy; possibly too much energy for just a rehearsal. One Ghoul was stomping furiously, another was jumping off of objects on the stage, and the drummer was sweating so hard I was worried he would pass out. The most shocking and impressive thing on the stage, though, was Copia.

 

Instead of his cassock, he wore a black suit with tails. He looked very polished and moved across the stage with a grace and confidence I had never seen from him. It was like I was seeing an entirely different person. I looked at Papa and he looked mildly impressed. I watched, transfixed, as Copia performed, until the song ended and Papa clapped loudly.

 

Copia jumped and almost dropped his microphone, and the other Ghouls turned to look at us. I wanted to disappear. Why was Papa doing this?

 

Papa strode out on to the stage and I dawdled behind him like a kid who had gotten stuck with their hand in the cookie jar. Papa clapped Copia on the back before putting his arm around his shoulders. I stood a few feet back, trying to ignore the looks I was getting from all the Ghouls.

 

“Not bad, not bad.” Copia seemed surprised by the praise. “Not as good as me, but not terrible.” Copia look like he wanted to retort, but he bit it back, stepping away from Papa and shrugging his arm off his shoulders. Once he took a step past Papa, he could see me standing awkwardly to the side. He stared at me and I wished again to disappear.

 

“Miss Evelyn?” I confused him.

 

“Looks like we both got new clothes, huh?” I laughed awkwardly, gesturing to his suit. Copia straightened his coat and gave a small nod. The confident stage persona had melted away, leaving only the shy man I knew.

 

“Why are you here, _topolino_?” He asked, and I heard Papa stifle a laugh. “And wearing that?” He gestured to my dress and I could not tell if he approved or not.

 

“What does _topolino_ mean?” I asked, not sure what he had just called me. Papa covered his mouth as he tried to stop another laugh. Copia turned red and glared at Papa.

 

“It means, uh--” Copia hesitated.

 

“It means _little mouse_!” Papa busted up laughing. “What a name to call someone!” Copia turned even more red, and I felt a blush appear on my face.

 

“I-I think it’s cute.” I choked out and both Copia and Papa looked at me in surprise. “But why are you calling me a mouse?” I asked and Copia started anxiously playing with the edge of his suit jacket.

 

“I don’t like his nickname for you.” He muttered.

 

“Because you don’t like cats?” I laughed and saw Copia’s ears turn red. That was it.

 

“Kitten or mouse, she looks good, no?” Papa’s loud voice cut through our awkwardness.

 

“Of course.” Copia said as if it was a fact that even a child would know. The compliment made me feel happier than it should have.

 

“But why is she dressed up?” Copia addressed Papa.

 

“You ask me to help, this is step one! Confidence!” I never wanted to hear the word ‘confidence’ again. Copia looked me over, still confused.

 

“Do you feel more confident?” Copia asked. I shrugged.

 

“You should, sweetie! You look hot!” A chipper voice piped up from the back of the stage. A short, curvy Ghoul was waving enthusiastically. I had forgotten the rest of the people on the stage. I knew of how many eyes were on me again and I instinctually covered my torso with my arms.

 

“You do look nice...” The bassist was so quiet I almost didn’t hear him.

 

“Thank you.” I replied, as quiet as him.

 

“Hey,” One guitarist, a huge and broad man, moved closer, and I tensed. He stopped his approach and held his hands out as a sign that he wasn’t trying to hurt me, his metal bracelet and rings catching the stage lights and gleaming for a moment.

 

“I wanted to say sorry for touching you.” I was confused. I hadn’t been touched in months. Not since...

 

He was the Ghoul who accidentally bumped into me.

 

“You didn’t know. Don’t worry about it.” He looked relieved. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I know it’s hard to watch…that.” I couldn't think of a word to describe my attacks, but I know that they are unsettling.

 

“Want to introduce the security detail, Cardinal?” Papa was leaning on a piece of the set, amused.

 

“A-Ah, yes.” Copia stammered and ushered the Ghouls to line up on the stage. He introduced them. Aether, Dewdrop, Earth, Swiss, Cumulus, Cirrus, and Rain. There was no way I would remember that.

 

“You’ll get it, eventually.” The one called Aether assured me. It felt like he read my mind.

 

“Yes, w-well.” Copia cleared his throat and tried to look authoritative. “These Ghouls will help keep you safe.” he explained. “They will rotate out each day, but at least one will be with you all day to make sure you are safe.”

 

“Even while I’m sleeping?” I asked and Copia nodded. Looks like I would have to explain my night terrors soon.

 

“Isn’t that a little extreme?”

 

“I’m not taking any chances.” Copia was dead serious and a glint of the anger he had earlier today was in his eyes. “Nothing will happen to you.” His conviction surprised me.

 

“You are in good hands, _gattina_.” Papa assured. “Nothing like a squad of demons to protect you. The Ghoulettes can tear a man in two.” The taller Ghoulette nodded at me and the shorter Ghoulette gave a thumbs up.

 

“Demons?” I asked, thinking he was joking. I had rarely seen any Ghouls in my visits to the church. I had seen them outside the church when I spied on the grounds from my house and they looked normal. I assumed their masks were some kind of religious thing.

 

“You did not know?” Papa was surprised.

 

“I don’t really see Ghouls around—Wait, are you being serious?”

 

“They hide their tails and can’t take off their masks around anyone who isn’t a Ghoul.” Copia explained. I looked at him like I didn’t believe him. I wasn’t sure if I bought the Ghouls being literal ghouls, but some security is better than no security.”

 

“Okay... I’ll unpack all that later. Can I go back to my room?” I looked at Papa for approval and he nodded.

 

“I will be your security tonight.” Copia said as I was about to leave. I gave him a look. “I missed a lot of work today. I will have an all-nighter, anyway.”

 

“See you tonight then?” He nodded at me and I turned to follow Papa out of the auditorium.

 

The walk back to the room was uneventful and very few people passed us on the way, so it was an easy journey.

 

“You did well today.” Papa praised me and I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach. When was the last time I was genuinely praised like that?

 

Papa excused himself as he had Anti-Pope business to attend to. Closing my door behind him, he left me alone for the first time since I had woken up. I looked at myself in the mirror in my bathroom, feeling a tiny spark of pride in myself. I had a lot to process from the last 24 hours, but I felt proud of myself for wearing the dress and not having a breakdown.

 

My mind was still buzzing with everything that had happened; Patrick had found me, I now lived in the church, the church had actual demons in it, and a Devil Pope had given me new clothes. I collapsed on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was so much, especially after being stagnant for a long time in my house. None of it felt bad though.

 

As I processed the day, I thought of Copia performing on stage, confident and charismatic. If that persona was hidden under the anxiety-riddled man I knew, then maybe there was one in me too.

 

Tiberius moved from his spot on the bed to move closer to my hair, sniffing at me.

 

“This might be a good thing, huh?” I asked the kitten and his mismatched eyes just stared at me. His eyes made me think of Copia again.

 

“At least you get to see your cat friends all the time now. That’s good. Right, Tibbs?”

 

Tibby licked my cheek, and I assumed that meant ‘yes’.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that's not sad? Pure fluff? What a miracle.


	9. Chapter 9 -- Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn finds that making progress is not as easy as getting new clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will still be another chapter this week!!! Thank you for your patience.

I had about two hours of alone time before Copia came to guard me for the evening. I had just finished eating a dinner of leftover pasta when the cardinal came in awkwardly balancing books, pens, and papers in his arms. He made a dash for the desk next to the bed, dropping everything in his hands on its surface before it fell out of his arms. I noticed he had changed from his suit to his normal black cassock. I wondered if he would ever wear the skin tight suit outside of a performance.

 

“Did you carry that all the way from your room?” I asked. Copia, who was organizing his supplies, shrugged without looking at me. He seemed to be hyper-focused on whatever task he had to complete. Once he had organized the books and papers to his liking, Copia sat down at the desk and scribbled away.

 

“Are you really going to be working all night?” I had washed my dishes from dinner and had put them away and Copia hadn’t said a word. He acknowledged my question with a small grunt noise I took to mean ‘yes’.

 

Tibby, excited that another person was around, was attempting to scale the cardinal’s cassock and get in to his lap. Copia didn’t seem to notice, but I knelt down and pulled the kitten off of him. His eyes left his work for a moment to see me kneeling beside him, holding Tiberius in my arms, but he still said nothing and went back to work.

 

I knew Copia was already a man of little words, but he usually tried to at least exchange pleasantries with someone. His intense focus and silence made me feel awkward. I stood around for a few minutes, waiting for him to say something, before I finally gave up and sat down on my bed. I leaned against the headboard and pulled my laptop on to my lap. Much to my surprise, the church had wifi, so I could go about my normal routine of watching YouTube or Netflix. Tibby assumed his normal position by my feet like it was a normal night at home.

 

Try as I might, though, I could not focus on anything I was watching. I was hyperaware of Copia being in the same space as me. I was all right with being silent when I was alone, but I felt uncomfortable being quiet when there was another person around me. I kept casting glances at Copia just in case he had been trying to talk while I had my headphones in. Every time I looked, his eyes were still down at his work.

 

He wrote quickly in an elegant script, but I couldn’t understand what he was writing at all. I leaned a little closer to the desk to get a better idea of what he was doing. He had two books open off to the side, but it looked like he was barely referencing them at all. I also couldn’t read the text in the books. I knew it was wrong to be nosy, but I was looking for something to break the silence that was crushing me. Obviously Copia did not find the silence awkward, so I told myself to not worry about it.

 

A half hour of trying to calm myself with ASMR videos did nothing to help. My foot was bouncing nervously, which Tibby hated because that meant he couldn’t sleep. I chewed on my lip anxiously, forcing my eyes to look at my computer and not over at Copia. Eventually, my will gave out, and I looked back over at the man at the desk. He had new books in front of him and a small stack of papers filled with his handwriting just off to the side. The old books he had placed with their spines facing me, so I quirked my head to the side and tried to read them. Most of the titles were in another language, possibly Latin. There was one on the top of the stack, bound in blue, with the title ‘Exposure Treatment and Phobias’ stamped on the spine in silver ink.

 

“What’s this?” I snatched the book off the pile and thumbed through it.

 

“I-it’s nothing.” Copia jumped as soon as he noticed I had taken the book. “Please put that back, Miss Evelyn.” He looked nervous.

 

“Why? This could be useful for me.” I tried to read a paragraph, but it was so full of psychology jargon I couldn’t understand. Copia clutched his hands to his chest and his nervous expression didn’t change.

 

“Can you understand  this?” I asked, gesturing to the book. Copia nodded and relaxed a little, he seemed to feel better knowing I couldn’t understand the book’s message.

 

“Is this for your work?” A book about phobia treatment seemed out of place amongst the older-looking tomes on the desk. Copia nodded, but wouldn’t meet my eye when I pressed him.

 

“So are you doing work about phobias?” He shook his head, looking away.

 

“Is this about me then?” Copia tensed.

 

“No-! It’s…” he gestured frantically, trying to pull the words out of the air. He muttered and mumbled for a moment before he let out a deep sigh through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line. 

 

“Yes.” He admitted, flushing a light pink. “I was looking for a way to help.” He held out his hand for the book and I placed it in his hand.

 

“Many studies say exposure therapy is best for most phobias that affect daily life.” He flipped through the book idly.

 

“And exposure therapy is.…?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about him trying to treat me without asking for help, especially when I did not know what the treatment is.

 

“It’s, well…what it sounds like.” His eyes were still on the book. It looked like he was reading through it quickly. “We place the patient in contact with their phobia for certain periods of time until they can better process the fear.”

 

“So people would just be touching me and I would just have to let them and not break down?” I asked, feeling a little sick at the thought. I didn’t think I had the mental stability to handle that.

 

“It would be very… uhm… Controlled.” Copia closed the book, set it on the desk, and finally looked at me. “Only trusted persons would touch you, and it would be only for short periods of time to start.” I felt no more comfortable at that explanation.

 

“Where would they touch me?” I asked, not liking the thought of someone just grabbing me wherever. “For how long?”

 

“You would decide where you would be touched and you would just touch for 30 seconds.” Copia explained. He sounded like a doctor and I didn’t like it.

 

“I... I don’t know.” I could feel myself trembling. “I don’t think I’m ready for something like that.”

 

“You will not ever be ready.” He was surprisingly blunt, and I gave him a look of disbelief. “T-That is what the book says....” He wrung his hands in his lap, turning slightly more pink.

 

“I still don’t think I can.” Every part of my body was saying it was a bad idea. Touch was so deeply rooted in trauma that even thinking of being touched frightened me. I could feel myself choking up and tears building behind my eyes.

 

“You can.” Copia picked up his chair and turned it to face me. He held out his gloved hand, palm up, towards me. “Just for 30 seconds.” His voice was firm, and I trembled harder.

 

“I can’t...” I whispered, curling my knees up to my chest. I looked at him with watery eyes and he didn’t flinch. He moved his hand slightly closer and then just waited. I hid behind my knees, trembling, as tears dripped down my face.

 

“I can’t, Copia!” I insisted. He didn’t move.

 

“Why won’t you stop?!” My fear was turning in to anger as I tried to get away from the situation.

 

“Trust me.” He hadn’t moved at all and I glared at him over my knees, my tears turning hot with frustration.

 

“You can’t force me to do this.” I spat at him. A flicker in the back of my brain chastised me for being childish, but I didn’t want to back down.

 

“I’m not forcing you.” His tone remained even, and he kept his hand held out.

 

“Then why won’t you back off?!” I raised my voice at him. Copia’s eyebrows raised, and he faltered a little. I felt a petty, smug pride at getting him to break. After pulling his hand back a fraction, his resolved steeled, and he held his hand back out, closer this time.

 

“Just 30 seconds.” He said. “It’s not that long.” I let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from him, looking back at my laptop and shoving my headphones back in my ears. My angry heart beat in my ears and I tried to calm down, but I glanced over and Copia was in the same position. I ripped my headphones out and slammed my hands on the bed.

 

“Don’t you have work to do?!” I demanded.

 

“This is part of my work.” His calm, even tone was back. “I know this is... difficult, but I would never hurt you. Trust me. Please.”

 

His ‘please’ hit me hard in the chest and I felt like an idiot. All my anger washed out of me and was replaced with a hot shame.

 

“I’m sorry. I really am.” Larger tears, still hot with emotion, streamed down my face now. “I don’t know why I am like this.” I pushed my laptop off my lap and curled back up in to my knees, wanting to just disappear.

 

“Your mind is making you behave in a way it thinks will keep you safe.” Copia said factually. “You have done nothing wrong. I am not upset.” The words sounded slightly rehearsed. I wondered if they were in the book. I sniffled in silence for a while and Copia still held his hand out.

 

“Just stop.” I pleaded. He shook his head.

 

“Do you think I will hurt you if you hold my hand?” I shook my head.

 

“So why are you afraid?” His logic made me feel angry again. I knew that my fear was irrational. I know he wouldn’t hurt me.

 

So why?

 

I rested my head on my knees, weighing his words. My stubbornness told me not to give in, but if I didn’t, how would I ever get better?

 

I cautiously turned to face him, still trembling. I took a deep, shaky breath and held my hand out towards Copia. My hand hovered over his, my muscles tense as my mind screamed at me to pull away. Another deep breath and I let my hand drop in to his.

 

I closed my eyes as I felt his fingers wrap around my hand. I shook harder. I didn’t want to look. If I did, then I would have to acknowledge that I was being touched. My chest burned and my heart pounded.

 

“Breathe.”

 

My eyes opened, and I looked at Copia. His expression remained neutral. I opened my mouth to speak and realized I had been holding my breath. I took in a gulp of air and my breath heaved. I felt panic raising in me and looked frantically around the room like a trapped animal.

 

“Look at me.” Copia’s voice was firm, and I did my best to obey him. My eyes would rest on him for a few seconds, flit away for a moment, and then return to his face. Prolonged eye contact was making me feel more panicked.

 

“Breathe with me.” He took in slow, calm breaths. I shakily tried to match his slow place. I focused on the rise and fall of his chest and my breathing fell in line with his. I was still trembling, but not nearly as badly. The corners of Copia’s mouth tugged up into a faint smile.

 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

 

“I’m..... all right?” My mind was racing, and it was hard to take stock of what emotions were the most prominent. “Has it been 30 seconds yet?”

 

“It’s been over a minute.” Copia held up his other wrist that his watch was on and squeezed my hand gently.

 

“Wh-what?” I stared at him, wide eyed.

 

“Almost two minutes now, and you haven’t pulled away.” He sounded proud and tears welled up in my eyes.

 

“Really?” Copia nodded, and I looked down at our hands. I had touched someone, voluntarily, for over two minutes. I was still touching someone and not having a total breakdown. I gave his hand a squeeze to prove that I was, in fact, holding someone’s hand. Feeling the warmth of his hand under his glove sent a surge of emotion through me. I felt my heart swell.

 

“I know you can do this.” The gentleness in Copia’s voice pushed my emotions over the edge and I was taken away by them. I bent over at the waist, his hand now between both of mine. I sobbed hard for the second day in a row, but these were tears of relief. Copia did not speak or move as my entire body shook with sobs.

 

I could do this, if I tried. I really could.

 

Once my sobs had died down into shaky sniffles and whimpers, I sat back up and let go of Copia’s hand.

 

“Sorry...” My voice was a whisper. “That was a little extreme for just holding someone’s hand, right?” I felt silly, but Copia shook his head.

 

“It is great progress.” He assured me. “Not every day will be perfect. But this is a good start.”

 

I felt exhausted. All of my emotions drained from me for the second night in a row. Copia looked me over to make sure I was okay and went back to his work. I pulled myself under my covers and just tried to relax. After all of my crying, my mind felt pleasantly calm. It was like all of my anxiousness had left me through my tears. I felt proud at the progress I had made that day.  

 

I felt Tibby lay down on my chest and I scratched his ears absentmindedly. My body felt heavy, and I didn’t want to open my eyes, so I felt my cat’s fur between my fingers and listened to the scratch of Copia’s pen as it moved over his paper.

 

I wasn’t sure when, but I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I was lying on the floor of Patrick’s home. The same nightmare as always. Things were different this time, though. Someone had smashed all the windows of the and the house looked abandoned. Dust covered everything, and it was dark. The blood I usually felt and saw beneath me was dry, but I still felt like I was dying and could not move. I heard footsteps behind me, slow and methodical, and I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound would come out.

 

_“I knew you’d come back.”_

 

Patrick’s voice was everywhere. The footsteps were getting closer. I clamped my eyes shut, still trying to scream. The footsteps got closer and closer until they were right next to my ear.

 

And then, I finally heard my screams.

 

I felt my head against something warm and tried to push it away, but something held me against it. I heard a whisper above me and felt something touch the top of my head and I struggled. I could move. I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to see Patrick, but kept struggling. I realized I was in someone’s arms and fought to get away. I wasn’t safe. I needed to leave. I screamed and screamed for help until I heard someone crying.

 

The person who was holding me was crying.

 

I faltered for a moment and it gave my mind a moment to process other feelings around me. I was in a bed, not on the floor. The smell of incense and lavender hit me as I took in fearful, shallow breaths. Confused, I allowed myself to open my eyes to see my room in the church. I wasn’t at the old house. My eyes darted around frantically to find any danger. It took a moment to process that my head was on Copia’s shoulder.

 

“It’s all right.” He whispered. “He’s not here. You’re safe, _topolino_.”

 

“Copia, wh--??” I tensed, my mind still trying to catch up with everything. Copia let me go, and scrambled off of my bed and back in to the chair by the desk.

 

“I’m sorry! I know you wouldn’t want me touching you without your permission, but...” He wiped his eyes on the backs of his sleeves. “You were screaming like someone was killing you. You wouldn’t wake up. I did everything I could think of.” He sounded guilty and I heard him sniffle a few times. I felt a heavy weight in my stomach, ashamed that I had frightened Copia to the point of making him cry.

 

“I am... so sorry.” My throat was dry and scratchy from screaming at the top of my lungs. “It was a nightmare.” I rubbed at my eyes, trying to come more out of my sleepy state. “I’m sorry I fought you. I thought you were Patrick.”

 

“Are you okay?” I gave him a small nod.

 

“I’ll make tea or something so I can go back to sleep.” I stood up quickly, wobbling my way over to the small kitchen in my room. I hadn’t checked where the Ghouls had put my things, so I groggily searched through every cabinet before I found my box of tea bags.

 

“Do you want some?” I looked over at Copia, who looked frazzled. He gave a small nod before picking up a book that was open on the desk and going back to reading it.

 

I boiled the water and poured it into two mismatched mugs, letting the tea bags steep for a while. I dumped a few spoonfuls of sugar and a bit of honey in to mine and asked Copia if he wanted any, to which he shrugged and muttered “too sweet” without looking up from his book.

 

I set the mug of plain tea down on the desk and Copia looked up from his book to take it. His mug had an abstract black-and-white pattern around it, which he inspected before taking a sip of tea. I climbed back under my covers, nursing my mug between my hands. I drank about half of my cup before I looked over at Copia, who hunched over his book.

 

“Are you going to sleep sometime?” I asked him, noting how pitch black it was outside.

 

“I have to study this.” He muttered.

 

“Is that a yes or a no?” I pressed and he shrugged. I sighed and went back to my tea, my eyelids getting droopy as I reached the last few sips.

 

I pulled my covered up to my ears and put my head down on my pillow, facing Copia. I watched him through heavy eyes as he kept reading. His eyes looked as heavy as mine felt.

 

“Sleep.” my tired voice muttered. Copia looked at me and shook his head.

 

“I can’t leave you.” I patted the bed next to me and he shook his head harder.

 

“I can’t sleep well knowing you’re going to just read until you pass out in that chair. That’s bad for your back.” The surrounding sheets muffled my voice, so half of the words that came out of my mouth were illegible.

 

“I’ll be fine.” Copia insisted and a small whine of annoyance seeped through my lips.

 

“Sleep!” I insisted, sounding slightly juvenile. Copia shook his head again. “Okay then, just come sit by me!” I persisted and Copia sighed.

 

“I can’t, _topolino_.” He said firmly.

 

“I’d feel safer if you did...” This was only a partial lie. Knowing he was right next to me in case of another nightmare would help me sleep easier, but I wanted him to relax. With another sigh, Copia closed his book, removed his shoes and biretta, and took a spot next to me on the bed that still gave me, leaving room so we wouldn’t touch. He sat up straight against the headboard and held his book in his lap.

 

“Good... Thank you.” I was almost entirely asleep by the time I felt his weight next to me on the bed, but I felt a little childish happiness at convincing Copia to relax a little.

  
“Stop worrying about me and go to sleep, _topolino_.”

Copia sounded slightly annoyed with my pestering, but I didn’t mind. I was still facing him and the smell of lavender and incense was faintly reaching me. This smell, Copia’s smell, had been a sign that I was safe from Patrick. The smell relaxed me and I listened to the rhythmic sounds of Copia turning the pages of his book and his steady breathing as they carried me off to a peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week had a lot of Papa III, this week is full of Copia, and next chapter will be about the Ghouls!!


	10. Chapter 10 -- Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first ghouls show up for guard duty and Evelyn really doesn't want to celebrate being 26.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned! I apologize for the long absence. Writers block and a new job kept me from being productive. I hope to be back to updating regularly! Thank you for all the kudos and comments while I have been away.

_ ~Bzzt~~bzzt~~bzzt~ _

I was dragged out of sleep by the sound of my phone vibrating next to my head. I tilted the screen to check the caller ID. It was Jaime. It was rare for him to call me, so it might have been an emergency. 

“Nnn---Hello?” My voice betrayed the fact that I just woke up. 

“Morning, sis! I was just calling to tell you happy birthday.” I sat up a little in bed, confused. 

“What do you mean ‘happy birthday’?” I asked, wiping sleep from my eyes.

“I mean what it sounds like?” Jaime sounded concerned, worried that his sister had forgotten what a birthday was. 

“Wait...what day is it?” I looked around the room for a calendar, but my eyes landed on the sleeping form of Cardinal Copia, who had his back turned to me. He had climbed under the blankets at some time during the night, still in his cassock. At least he got some sleep. 

“July 30th? E, are you okay?” I was watching the rise and fall of Copia’s chest and almost forgot to answer. 

“Uhm...yeah, fine, Jay. I’m fine.” I stammered. “Things have just been weird...I lost track of the days.” I sighed. Between my night terrors, what happened with Patrick, and moving in to the church, I hadn’t given a passing thought to the date or to my birthday. 

“I heard about what happened with Patrick.” Of course he would have, he was keeping tabs on me now. “Do you need me to come get you? Take you away for a bit?”

“No, no.” I said hastily. “I don’t think I’m really in any condition to be out anyway.” I admitted. 

“I get it. Maybe I can just come over for dinner? You should at least do something for your birthday.” He didn’t know I was hiding away in a Satanic church. I would rather die than have Jaime come to the church and be accosted by Papa. The thought of Papa drilling my brother with questions about me while Jaime looked on in shock was not a comforting one. 

“No!” I said curtly. “I mean...no, I don’t want to celebrate.” I sighed into the phone. “26 isn’t an important year and I just want to spend time...” I glanced over at Copia’s sleeping form again. “Spend time alone.”

“Well...alright.” Jaime sounded uncertain but I was happy he didn’t press me. “Just do something nice for yourself, alright, E?” 

“I will, Jay. Thanks for calling, though.” 

“Of course. Just wanted you to know that I care. Have a good day, Evelyn.” 

“Yeah...Bye.” I hung up my phone and tossed it back on to the mattress. 

Congratulations, Evelyn Mae Allison. You made it to 26. 

Hooray.

I carefully slinked out of bed as to not wake Copia, heading to the bathroom to wash the sleep from my face. As I was in the bathroom, I heard a murmur from the bedroom. 

“....something.” 

“Copia?” I leaned my head back into the bedroom and listened harder. 

“Yeah...” his sleepy voice was muffled by the sheets he had pulled up over his chin. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to be awake. 

“What did you say?”

“You should do something.” he punctuated the sentence with a yawn. “Birthdays are important. Well, not when you get to my age but...” he yawned again and finally opened his eyes, looking right at me. “For you it should be important.” 

“How old are you again?” I changed the topic and Copia didn’t respond. I went back to washing my face and could hear the rustling of sheets as the cardinal got out of the bed. I could hear him walking around the room before the relative silence was interrupted by a knock on the door. I exited the bathroom to see Copia trying to smooth down his bedhead and opened the door. 

“Reporting for duty, sir!” A chipper voice cut through the air and I stood a few feet behind Copia to see the two female ghouls in the doorway. Cirrus and Cumulus. Their names were easy to remember because it looked like they were a matched set. Cumulus was giving her boss a mock salute and Cirrus had her arms folded over her chest, looking from Copia to me and then back to him. I hope she wasn’t making any assumptions based on Copia’s messy hair and smeared paint around his eyes. 

“Ah, yes.” Copia tried his best to look authoritative but he let out a large yawn that broke the illusion. He seemed like he wasn’t a morning person. 

“Miss Evelyn, Cirrus and Cumulus will be your guards for the day.” Copia looked at me over his shoulder before turning back to the two...women? Ghouls?...in front of him. 

“It’s her birthday, so do something nice.” I groaned. Could he not keep anything to himself? Cumulus looked thrilled at the news, though. 

“Oh, of course we will!” She clapped her hands together excitedly and Cirrus gave a nod to Copia. 

“I will leave you to it, then.” Copia said, trying to smooth his hair once again. “I should make myself more...presentable.” The Ghoulettes stood to the side to let Copia pass and walk down the hallway before stepping into the room, closing the door behind them. 

“Did you have any plans?” Cirrus spoke, her voice full of authority and control as she walked around the room, looking at the books and papers that Copia had left on the desk. Cumulus had seen Tibby and made a beeline for him, scooping him into her lap and sitting on the edge of the bed. Tibby didn’t seem to know what to do with a non-human holding him so he was a little stiff, but he relaxed when she found the spot behind his ear that he liked scratched. 

“I don’t want anyone to make a fuss about it.” I sighed. “I was hoping he wouldn’t say anything.”

“Birthdays are special, though.” Cirrus said, turning her masked face towards me. 

“Yeah!” Cumulus nodded emphatically. “I  _ love _ my birthday! I get treated all special and get a lot of attention and nice things...Don’t you want that?” 

“Attention is the last thing I want.” I responded. The two ghouls looked at each other for a moment before exchanging a nod, some silent agreement being made. 

“Very well.” Cirrus turned back to me and put her hands on her hips. “No attention. But that doesn’t mean we won’t show you a good time.”

“You’re our guest.” Cumulus chimed in. “And we would be terrible hosts if we just let you be bored. So think of it as us just being good caretakers; it doesn’t have to be about your birthday.” 

“I...guess?” I shrugged. “Just nothing too crazy, okay?” Both ghoulettes gave me a thumbs up. Did they share a mind of something? 

“Have you had breakfast yet?” Cirrus asked and I shook my head. “Then that is what we should do first. Get ready and we will escort you.” 

“Papa got you new clothes right?” Cumulus asked, sounding excited again. I gave her a cautious nod. “Can I pick something out for you, then?  _ Please _ ?” I gave another slow, cautious nod and she sprung up from the bed, unceremoniously plopping Tibby onto the mattress. The shorter ghoul flung open the doors to the closet and started looking through all of the clothing that had been hung up there. 

“You’ll want to start getting ready.” Cirrus had sidled up to me and whispered so her partner wouldn’t hear. “She gets a little too excited at the possibilities. It could be a while.” Cumulus was thoroughly inspecting every article of clothing with care and I could see the wheels turning in her brain. “We’ll put the clothes in the bathroom while you take a shower?” Cirrus offered and I nodded and left them to their task. 

Thankfully, Cumulus ended up picking an understated outfit. Skinny jeans and a green blouse with a pattern of vines on it. I had suspicions that Cirrus had to talk her out of choosing one of the statement pieces that. It was still tighter than the hoodie and sweats I had been wearing since I left the hospital, so seeing myself looking more presentable was an odd feeling. 

I was just finishing putting my hair up in to the half bun when Cumulus poked her head in the bathroom door and gave a small, excited squeal. 

“Oh, that looks so good on you!” She sounded very proud of herself. 

“Yeah...Yeah, thanks.” I tried to make myself sound confident, but I failed. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Cirrus assured me over Cumulus’ shoulder. “You do look nice.” 

The two ladies the led me down a path of hallways to the cafeteria. It was just after 9 AM and there were many clergy members and ghouls roaming about. I instinctually stiffened at the sight of the crowd. The ghoulettes saw my reaction and shared another look and meaningful nod. 

“I’ll go grab something, you stay here with Cumulus.” Cirrus said before disappearing through the doors and into the crowd. 

I leaned against the wall next to the cafeteria doors so I wouldn’t have to look at the flock of people anymore. Cumulus took a spot next to me, twiddling her thumbs. She obviously wasn’t comfortable with silence. But what does one talk about with literal hell spawn? I just kept my mouth shut until Cumulus decided the silence was too much. 

“So....” she started tentatively. “You and the Cardinal, huh?” 

“What?” I was so startled by the question that I shouted my response. Cumulus looked equally startled by my response and jumped, twiddling her thumbs a little faster. 

“So is that a no or....?” 

“Of course not.” I said, feeling a flush of embarrassment blaze on to my cheeks. 

“But...this morning...”

“He just fell asleep. You knew he was there to watch me last night.” 

“Hmmm....” Even without being able to see her eyes, I could tell she was squinting at me. She obviously didn’t believe me. 

“I wouldn’t go through all this trouble for someone I wasn’t dating.” She sounded suspicious. “Hells, some of the things he’s doing I wouldn’t even do for Cirrus.” 

“What do you mean?”

“He’s pulling out all the stops for you, honey.” I quirked my eyebrow. “Do you know how many favors he called in to get you that room? Or how he changed our entire rehearsal schedule so you could have us with you for security? I’m surprised he hasn’t got Papa Nihil doing your laundry or something.” 

“He just...” I didn’t know how to feel. It did seem a little overboard for just me. I felt a little uncomfortable with him doing all that for me without asking first. “I think he sees a lot of himself in me.” I could feel Cumulus giving me another look. “I mean, I’m as anxious as he is. Even more so. I think he just wants to help me because he can’t really help himself.” 

“Mmmmhmmmm......” Cumulus still didn’t seem convinced, but the conversation was cut short my Cirrus exiting the cafeteria with a large tray of food. 

“Let’s go.” she gestured for us to follow her. Cumulus gave me a look that I could read through her mask as  _ ‘We’ll talk about this later.’ _

“Where are we going?” Cirrus had led me in the opposite direction of my room to a far wing of the church that I had been previously told to stay out of. 

“Ghoul’s common room.” Cirrus said simply over her shoulder. 

“It’s not good for you to be in your room all day.” Cumulus added. “Plus we have a tv and video games.” 

The common room reminded me of the shared spaces in my college dorm. There was a large seating area with multiple couches, a coffee table, and a large TV. Under the TV was a large collection of video games and DVDs. Just off to the side was a communal kitchen that was stuffed full of food, snacks, and dirty dishes. A few ghouls were lounging on some of the chairs and turned to look at me when I walked in, but quickly went back about their business when they saw I was with Cirrus and Cumulus. 

Cirrus sat down on the largest couch, which had been empty, and placed the large tray of food on the nearby coffee table. The second the food touched a solid surface, a shorter ghoul swooped in and snatched a donut off the tray. 

“Dew!” Cirrus scolded. 

“What?” The ghoul sounded positively offended. “There’s enough to go around.” He seemed to notice me then and huffed. “Or do you expect  _ Princess _ here to eat all of it?”

“Excuse me?” This ghoul was talking down for me for no reason and I felt my temper flare. 

“Heh, and here I was thinking we were her new servants.” He seemed to take some pleasure in riling me up. 

“Lay off, Dew.” I was right about to take the bait and lay in to him when the large ghoul I remembered as Aether placed his large hand on the smaller ghoul’s shoulder. 

“I, for one, can’t wait for my turn on guard detail.” A ghoul who was splayed sideways in a chair snickered. 

“You’re not helping, Swiss.” Aether sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. I felt my blood starting to run hot. Were they making fun of me? I didn’t ask for them to take care of me, so they had to reason to treat me poorly.

“Don’t listen to them, sweetie.” Cumulus reached out her hand to comfort me but then stopped, remembering who I was. I felt the heat in me rise, the anger of the conversation and shame at my weaknesses bubbling in my chest. It took everything in me to bite my tongue and not lash out at Cumulus. She didn’t deserve my ire. 

“They’re not usually assholes.” Aether said with a laugh as Dewdrop elbowed him in the stomach. “The new schedule is just...stressful, that’s all.” Guilt mixed in with my anger. I didn’t ask for this; to inconvenience anyone. 

The sound of hurried footsteps reached my ears and a worried looking Copia appeared in the doorway to the common area. He frowned when he saw me. Great, just what I needed. 

“Explain to me why in the seven hells you brought her to the ghoul’s quarters?” He looked from me to Cirrus, obviously annoyed. 

“It’s more comfortable here. There’s more space.” Cirrus said matter-of-factly. 

“And it’s not like we’re gonna hurt her.” Cumulus chimed in. “We’re guarding her like you asked us to.” 

“Yes, but...” Copia echoed what Aether had done earlier and pinched the bridge of his nose, giving an exasperated sigh. “ _ You _ know about her condition, but the other ghouls don’t. What if they had approached her? Tried to touch her?” I knew he meant well, but his tone only angered me more. Everything was fine. I was fine. So why was he being like this? 

“Why would you ask us to look after her if you didn’t think we could protect her?” Dew spat at Copia, looking like he was ready to punch Copia. First he was mad that he had to protect me, then he was mad when Copia thought he couldn’t do it. I would have laughed if my blood wasn’t boiling. It felt like I had no say in the matter and being treated like a fragile doll. The argument was continuing around me, all of the ghouls pitching in now against Copia. The growing cacophony of voices was swelling and there was an palpable anger in the room. Anxiety added itself to the emotions rumbling in me, threatening to burst. 

“Stop!” The room went silent as I stood from the couch, arms straight and clenched into fists at my sides. I had my fill of being talked over from Patrick and I had promised myself I wouldn't let it happen again. 

“I didn’t ask for any of this.” I just wanted the noise to stop, but now that I had spoken, all of the trapped emotions leaked out through my mouth. 

“I don’t want any of you to babysit me. I’ve been living on my own just fine for months just fine.” You could have heard a pin drop. “Do I not have any say in any of this? First Papa just tells me I’m living here, tells me I will be wearing new clothes to give me ‘confidence’.” I emphasized with sarcastic air quotes. 

“And you.” I pointed harshly at Copia, who visibly jumped. “Who are you to decide that I need protecting? That I need bodyguards? That I need fucking therapy?” The emotions spilling from my mouth also migrated to my eyes as hot, angry tears started to fall down my face. 

“Stop treating me like a fucking child!” 

Tears continued to fall and the room stayed silent. Everyone was afraid to be the first to speak, afraid of angering me further. Copia looked pale and utterly gob smacked and all of the ghouls looked like animals who knew they had done something bad. Since I had gotten rid of all the venom I had, guilt and regret took its place. 

“Uh..” Surprisingly, Copia was the first to speak. His hands were shaking and I instantly wished I could take everything back. My tears were still falling, but had changed from anger to just a general sadness and they had no signs of stopping. 

“Copia, I-” 

“No.” He tone was cold when cut me off and I flinched like he had hit me. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and it was a moment before he spoke again. 

“You are right. I apologize.” His voice was neutral and emotionless. I was reminded of how emotionless he had become after I had told him about what Patrick had done to me. But this time, there was sadness behind his facade instead of anger. 

And then he left, turning sharply on his heel and leaving down the corridor. 

“Shit...” I cursed under my breath, wiping tears away with the back of my hand, and went to follow after him. None of the ghouls tried to stop me as all of them still looked stunned. 

“Copia, wait!” I shouted down the hall after him. He didn’t acknowledge me or even hesitate, just kept his pace smooth and calculated, almost robotically so. 

“Copia, please!” My voice cracked as I called after him, but he still did not show any sign that he heard me. He had blazed right past Papa the last time he was like this. I don’t think he would stop for me now. 

Realizing that, I gave up on following him, my pace slowing to a crawl. Why had I done that? Why do I get so overwhelmed so easily? Why can’t I handle emotions like a normal person? All the questions I had for myself boiled down to the one I always asked.

_ Why am I like this? _

I was walking, but I didn’t know where to. I was too in my head to really care and my eyes were blurry and heavy from the tears that would not stop. I couldn’t see through my guilt as my mind continued its assault on me. 

_ He was only trying to help.  _

_ He did so much to try and make you happier.  _

_ He didn’t deserve that.  _

Somehow my feet had taken me to my room. I opened the door, greeting Tiberius half-heartedly. The room felt hollow, empty, and cold. The bed had been made by someone and Tibby slept peacefully in the center of the mattress. I ran my hands over the smooth covers. That morning, the phone call from my brother, Copia’s messy bed hair....it all seemed like it happened so long ago, but it had only been a few hours. 

I turned my head towards the desk where Copia had been working. The books and papers had been taken away and had been replaced by a single orange lily in a slim crystal vase. It had probably come from the garden. I ran my fingertips over the soft petals, wondering who had put it there. My eyes travelled down the vase to a little note card placed on the table. There was a simple message in clean handwriting.

_ Happy birthday.  _

_ \-- C. C. _

I sunk into the chair and placed my head in my hands, sobbing. 

Happy fucking birthday. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted this chapter to be happy. I really did. But my brain decided it should be filled with angst.   
> Next time....probably more angst.


	11. Chapter 11-- Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clergy takes another approach to Evelyn's recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for a 5,000+ word chapter, kids? 
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING**  
> This chapter contains a segment in the beginning that features dangerous intrusive thoughts and suicidal ideation. I think it is important that I include this short scene because there are many who live with constant intrusive thoughts and it is a very large part of their mental health journey. I also promised myself to not shy away from the darker things that come from abuse and compromised mental states. 
> 
> That being said, I absolutely understand how this could upset people, so I have marked the beginning and end of the scene with the symbol '**--**' so you may skip this portion if you so choose. You won't miss anything essential by skipping this scene. 
> 
> If you are having thoughts similar to what Evelyn is having and/or you feel like a danger to yourself, reach out for help. Your brain is lying to you and there really is help out there for you. 
> 
> Thank you all for your continuously kind comments! I read through every single one and I will get better at replying to them. I am happy to be back!
> 
> \--Birdy

I remember my first night in the hospital after I realized the lasting damage that Patrick had done. I stared out the window for hours, watching the moonlight streaming in through the thin hospital curtains. I felt hollow. Evelyn had left, and in her place was an empty shell that could no longer feel. I was numb. My mind was trying to keep me safe from the pain I was feeling by choosing not to feel at all.

 

That’s what I felt that morning.

The sheets over my body felt like they were suffocating me as I woke. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, unhindered by the curtains that covered them. I cursed the sun for rising. It reminded that the world was still turning and carrying on. If the world stopped and time ceased, I wouldn’t have to face myself.

Unfortunately, unlike my night at the hospital, I did not stay numb.

Within a few minutes I felt guilt and shame bubble in my chest. I felt a crushing feeling against my chest, like someone was sitting on it. I was being weighed down, and it felt like I couldn’t move. Tears welled up and spilled out of the corners of my eyes. The tears ran tracks down my cheeks and onto my pillow as the thoughts from yesterday resumed their assault.

****--****

_ You can’t be around people. _

_ You ruin everything. _

_ You will never get better. _

_ Why are you still here? _

_ Why are you trying? _

_ Why are you burdening everyone? _

_ It would be easier for everyone if you weren’t here. _

_ You should die. _

**_Die._ **

**_Die._ **

I relieved that I felt too weighed down to move. When my feelings returned in the hospital, that’s when I clawed at my wounds and started destroying myself. I was afraid of what I would do now I wasn’t anchored to IVs and heart rate monitors.

Tibby, somehow sensing I was awake, trudged up the cushy mattress from his spot at my feet up to my face. It was quite a journey, and he plopped down right in front of my face and closed his eyes. His nose touched mine, tiny breaths tickling my face. His breath smelled like cat food. It was disgusting, but I let him stay where he was. For the first time that morning, I had a positive thought.

_ He needs you. _

With what felt like a great effort, I pulled my hand up from under the covers and scratched the top of his head.

“Thanks, little guy.” I murmured. His eyes opened, and he nuzzled into my palm, purring. He licked my nose, his sandpaper tongue hurt, but it was a nice gesture.

****—****

In my lethargy, I must have fallen back asleep, because I was startled awake by banging on my door. I had locked it the night before, not wanting to face anyone, and I still wasn’t ready.

“Go away...” I grumbled under my breath, bringing my covers over my head. The banging continued along with violent jiggling of the handle. I willed them to leave, squeezing my hands over my ears as if they would disappear if I couldn’t hear them. Eventually the noise stopped and whoever it was left. I stayed hidden in the covers for a few more minutes before I dared to pull them down. I still couldn’t bring myself to move and stared at the ceiling for a few more minutes before Tibby whined in my ear.

Oh yeah, cats need food.

I wondered if someone else was feeding the strays.

I scooped Tibby in my arms and held him close to my chest, keeping him as a reminder to not do anything rash. The ghouls had brought his bowls over from the house and placed them in a corner of the small kitchen on the tile floor. I gave him a small scoop of food and sat down on the cold tile, watching him as he ate vigorously. 

I don’t know how long I stared at that little corner of the kitchen. The empty feeling had returned, and I felt too heavy to stand. Tibby had finished his food and crawled over my lap, amusing himself. I wished I was as carefree as he was. He didn’t become a raging asshole who screamed at people who only wanted to help him. I sighed, my head tilting back until it hit a cabinet. How could I face any of them after that meltdown?

I could see sun going down. The world was still turning.

There was another knock on my door. The banging was heavier than before, more urgent. I covered my ears again, wishing them away. However, it seemed like they had returned with a different plan, because my door flew off its hinges.

The heavy wooden door flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall and crashing to the ground. It sounded like a train had crashed into my room and in the blink of an eye I leapt from my spot on the floor onto my counter. I didn’t know I could jump so high.

My heart hammered in my chest, expecting someone to attack me after destroying my door. Maybe it was Patrick? Had he come to take me away? Or hired someone to do it? A hitman? Did those even exist in real life?

I saw many figures crowding the doorway. As my eyes focused, and the dust cleared, I saw two bulky ghouls high-fiving each other and Papa striding through the gaping doorway as if nothing had happened. Behind him stood the rest of the ghouls, my former bodyguards.

“Ah,  _ gattina! _ ” Papa greeted me enthusiastically. “Why are you up there?” I groaned and climbed down off the counter, placing my elbows on the surface and my head in my hands. I just wanted to be alone, was that so hard? Papa stood directly across from me, resting his chin in his hands.

_ “Gattina?”  _ His voice was lighthearted, and it got on my nerves.

“What?” I snapped. My voice was dry and sounded much sadder than I had meant it to. Papa frowned.

“Are you...? I heard that...” His frown deepened. 

Papa at a loss for words. I never thought I would see the day. 

The group of ghouls were trickling into the room, looking around awkwardly. Tiberius saw Cumulus and padded over to her, happy to see a friend. Cumulus seemed overjoyed that the cat had chosen her and let out a little squeal. Cirrus tapped Cumulus on the shoulder to say  _ ‘now is not the time’. _

“I’m not really in a state to have guests.” My voice scratched through my throat. I was dehydrated from all the crying. I turned to get myself a glass of water so I wouldn’t have to look at anyone. 

“We were worried.” A ghoul, who must have been Rain, had his hands clutched nervously to his chest. I felt another pang of guilt. I hadn’t realized how this situation looked from the outside. Someone must have seen me lumbering back to my room in my zombified state yesterday with tears streaming down my face. Today I locked my door and wouldn’t answer. It’s no wonder they knocked the door down; they were half expecting to find a corpse.

“I’m sorry.” I murmured. “I just can’t be around people right now.” I looked through my cabinets as if I needed the perfect glass, but I really was just avoiding looking at the group in my room.

“Well, good thing none of us are people.” Swiss chimed in. The tall ghoul I remembered as Mountain elbowed Swiss, hard, in his ribs. I looked over my shoulder at Papa, confused. Papa shrugged, and I sighed. I didn’t need anymore supernatural surprises right now.

“You know what I mean.” I grumbled. “I just want to be alone.” I picked a glass and filled it with water, still unable to face any of them.

“Well, it’ll be hard to be alone with no door.” Aether shrugged. He was one of the two Ghouls who had knocked it down in the first place, the other was standing by Papa and wore a different outfit and mask than the other ghouls.

“Then just.... fix the door?” I didn’t have the energy for this. “You know that I’m fine, so just put it back.” I took a swig of water and felt like a rehydrating sponge.

“Can’t do that.” Papa chimed in. “Well, can do that... but it will take time.” The other ghouls nodded in agreement. “Very long time.” he emphasized. Something told me that Papa could have the door back in perfect condition in twenty minutes, but was purposely putting it off.

“Can you just leave then?” I had migrated across the room to the chair in front of the desk and sat down, nursing my glass, my back to everyone. The flower was still in the vase where I found it and looking at it made my heart hurt.

“Leave? What bodyguards just leave?” Aether chimed in. Like Papa, he also sounded a little too pleased for my current mood.

“I thought we were done with that.” I spat over my shoulder.

“Well, technically, the cardinal never told us to stop.” I frowned at my water.

“I thought this was supposed to be like a one-or-two-ghouls-at-a-time thing. I don’t think I need all of you here. And Papa wasn’t even on guard duty to begin with.” 

“Well, the boss never told us who should to be with you today, so we just thought we would all come.” This was becoming more and more annoying. They were still telling me what to do again and still treating me like an invalid. I turned my chair to face everyone and plopped back in to the seat, hunched over, elbows on my knees.

“So we’re just doing this again? Still bossing me around?” Anger was building back up in me. It seemed as if I had learned nothing from my previous outburst.

“Well, no.” Aether rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “We just wanted you to listen to us for a minute. It’s your choice from here.” It seemed like Aether had become the spokesperson for the group. 

I noted that Dewdrop faced away from me, sitting on the edge of the bed. Either he was not on board with whatever this was or they had ordered him to keep quiet. Still, he nodded at Aether’s words.

“So you had to knock down my door to get me to just talk to you?” No one responded to that.

“You are very stubborn,  _ gattina.” _ Papa broke the silence. “We had to do something you could not ignore. This was the only thing we could think of.” Papa was leaning against the wall, a passive observer. “You are very much like the cardinal this way. Stubborn.” I flushed, offended at the accusation, but I knew he was right. I looked at the ghouls who gave reluctant nods. I reached behind me for my glass and took an awkward sip of my water.

“You both lock your doors and won’t come out, too.” Dewdrop scoffed. “Except he becomes even more of a workaholic and you—“ The small ghoul was cut short by Cirrus smacking him on the back of the head.

“So did you have to break his door down?” I joked.

“That didn’t work.” Dew grumbled, and I laughed. So they had tried it? The tension in the room softened slightly once they got a laugh out of me.

“He insisted he was fine and forced us out.” Cumulus sounded sad.

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t do the same thing?” I challenged.

“Had to try.” Mountain spoke for the first time and the deep bass of his voice startled me.

“Okay... so... what is your goal with all of this?” They had broken in to my room and forced me to listen to them, and I wanted to see what their plan was from here.

“We were just hoping you would spend time with us.” Aether’s request was so genuine that it caught me off guard. “You don’t have to leave your room. We can bring things to you.” he offered. I looked down at the glass of water in my lap, swirling it around a little.

“I just... really want to be alone.” I muttered.

“How will that help you?” Cirrus said sharply. “Say one thing about being alone that is good for you.”

“I-I just...You see…” I had nothing. I was at a loss for words. With a simple question, Cirrus had torn down any argument I had.

“The cardinal also told us about the therapy he requested you try. Is that something you would like to continue?” It felt like Aether spoke to my emotions and Cirrus spoke to my logic. When I hesitated, Cirrus crossed her arms and changed tact.

“Let’s put it this way: Do you want to stay like this?” Again she left me speechless. I wondered if Copia had told them about her rant in the garden all that time ago, when I told him how much I hated the way I was. Maybe no one had told them and it was just that obvious.

“It’s your choice.” Aether assured me. Now they were using both tactics on me. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t feel ganged up on, though. I felt like I was surrounded by people who genuinely cared about me. Copia had also cared for me and earnestly wanted to help, but he hadn’t asked me what I wanted. This felt better, more comfortable. It felt like I had more control.

“Okay.” I gave in because there was no reason not to. “Sure... I can try.” The tension in the room deflated, like the entire room let out a silent sigh of relief. Cumulus actually clapped.

“Very good.” Papa pushed himself off the wall. “Wonderful progress,  _ gattina,  _ you are showing great--”

“If you say ‘confidence’, I will strangle you.” I was only half joking, but Papa laughed heartily.

“You would not be the first to try, little one.” He smiled at a joke I did not understand before motioning to the ghoul beside him. “Omega and I will let you have your fun.” He said, heading to the doorway.

“After all that, you’re not staying?” It wasn’t like Papa to turn down any invitation to socialise.

“No rest for the wicked,  _ gattina. _ ” Papa didn’t break stride as he waved at me over his shoulder, the ghoul called Omega in tow.

The rest of the evening I spent with the ghouls in my room. Cumulus, Cirrus, and Rain spent a while playing with Tiberius. I gave the two of them all of Tibby’s toys and they seemed to have a good time presenting each toy to him and seeing how he reacted to it. 

Mountain went to back to the ghoul’s quarters and took the common room TV. I told him he didn’t have to because I’m sure it would upset the other ghouls, but he insisted it wouldn’t be a problem.

He placed the TV on the desk so everyone could see it easily. As he was setting it up, a cable hit the flower Copia had left me, knocking it off the desk. I leapt across the room to save it, catching the vase with both hands before it could hit the ground and clutching it delicately to my chest.

“Ooooh, did the cardinal give that to you?” Cumulus stepped away from Tibby for a moment to examine the lily. I remembered the conversation I had with her yesterday. She seemed dead-set on Copia and I being some kind of item.

“N-No.” Cumulus put her hands on her hips and I could feel the look she was giving me through the dark eyeholes of her mask. She could tell I was lying. She scanned over the desk, spotting the card that had accompanied the flower. I tried to grab it before she could, but she moved quicker than I could even perceive. She turned the card over in her fingers, examining both sides.

“ _ ‘Happy Birthday’ _ ? That’s it?” she scoffed, handing it back. “I was expecting at least a sonnet or something.”

“You mean he didn’t?” Mountain also seemed surprised at the brief message. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Yeah, he’s old-fashioned enough for that.” Aether chuckled as he entered the room with bags of food. I thought the cafeteria was closed, but he had somehow gotten enough supplies to make a dinner for the eight of us.

“He wouldn’t...” I looked at the card in my hand, the elegant handwriting, before placing both it and the vase in a safe space on the kitchen counter.

“Would you want him to, though?” Cumulus asked mischievously, and I felt myself flush.

“No. Why would I?” Everyone looked at me for a moment in awkward silence before going back to what they were doing. Did everyone think I had a thing for Copia?

“Seemed like you were desperate to save that flower though...” Cumulus kept prodding.

“I haven’t received a no-strings-attached gift in years.” I shrugged. “Patrick showered me with gifts, but they were all either bribes or things he would hold over my head later.” Copia’s gift carried no manipulation or expectations with it. It was refreshing. 

“Are you for real?” Dewdrop halted the conversation he was having with Swiss on the floor.  “What the fuck? Watch that fucker try to set foot in the church. I’ll kick his ass.” There was a murmur of agreement from the room.

“So you know about Patrick, huh?” I had assumed Copia had told them so they knew why they were guarding me, but it was nice to confirm what they knew.

“The CliffNotes version, yeah.” Aether muttered as he tried to find anything to cook with.  “Do you seriously only have one pot?” I shrugged and explained I didn’t really cook. Aether sighed. “Swiss, if I give you a list of things, will you get them from the main kitchen?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m up for a B&E.” Swiss sprung to his feet.

“You’re going to steal them?” I asked, feeling a little uneasy of taking things from the church since everyone had been so accommodating.

“Not stealing if you return it.” Swiss pointed out.

“We do it all the time, it’s no big deal.” Aether assured me, handing a scrap of paper to Swiss.

Once Swiss had returned with the stolen goods, Aether made dinner and we all sat on the floor to eat it since there was only one chair in the room. Rain and Aether tried to convince me to sit in the desk chair while they all sat on the floor, but I didn’t think that was fair. 

As we ate, I hooked my laptop up to the TV, and we watched a few movies. The ghouls were easy to entertain. They explained they had only been out of hell for a year or so, so a lot of media was new to them. I hooked my laptop up to the TV, and we watched a few movies. Watching a group of demons collectively lose it after finding out Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father was incredibly wholesome.

As the evening went on, the ghouls lumped together into a pile on the floor as they all started to fall asleep. The only one hanging back was Cirrus, who sat off to the side and kept looking from the TV, to me, and back again. She didn’t make a move to approach me until I let out a long yawn.

“Would you like to lay your head in my lap?” she moved to sit closer. I must have looked terrified because she halted her approach.

“I won’t hurt you.” her voice was almost a purr, a mother cat calming a kitten.

“I-I know you won’t, it’s just...” Putting your head in someone’s lap was already a form of trust, not to mention a lot of physical contact.

“Okay. We’ll start smaller, then.” She sat right next to me, crossing her legs. “Is it all right if I let our knees touch?” It was such a small point of contact but I still felt panic set in. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I wouldn’t get better if I didn’t try. Cirrus looked at me expectantly, but I could tell that I still had the option to say no. I looked away from her as I gave a tiny nod.

The brush of her knee touching mine as we sat cross-legged next to each other made my heart rate spike. I felt like I was sweating. Instead of letting me stew in my anxiety, Cirrus asked me questions about the movie we were watching. Simple things, like names of actors and what was going on in the story. I stuttered my answers, but her tactic worked and my breathing slowly calmed down.

When she felt I relaxed enough, Cirrus placed her hand on my thigh, not stopping the conversation. I tensed and my breathing picked up again. My muscles screamed at me to push her away and run. Cirrus could sense that, so she kept her touch light on my leg.

“You’re doing really well.” she assured in a gentle voice. “You can stop at any time.” she reminded me. I was trembling hard, and it felt like my lungs couldn’t get enough air.

“Y-Yeah... I-I know.” I said between panicked gasps. Cirrus squeezed my thigh reassuringly, and I jumped a little. She went to pull back, thinking she had gone too far.

“N-No!” I was determined to make progress on my terms, and just touching knees with someone seemed like a step back “No, i-i-it’s fine.” I motioned her to keep her hand where it was and she resumed the conversation. It was so hard to focus on her voice and not the pressure of her hand touching me.

_ Get it away. _

_ Get It Away _

**_GET IT AWAY_ **

I closed my eyes and put my hands over my face. I tried to force myself to take control over my thoughts.

_ It’s all right.  _

_ I’m safe.  _

I repeated the phrases over and over in my head until I stopped shaking and my breathing stabilized once again. I took my hands off of my face and looked over to Cirrus sitting beside me. Even though she wore an expressionless mask, I thought I could see pride in her face.

“Good. Fantastic.” She kept her voice hushed to not wake the others who were sleeping, but she sounded pleased with me. I felt a little warmth bloom in my chest as I realized that I had kept control and hadn’t had a full breakdown. It was exhausting though, and I could feel my eyes getting droopy and another yawn left me.

“You want to lie in my lap now?” Cirrus asked again. I contemplated it and Cirrus look on, patiently. When I didn’t respond she quirked her head to the side.

“I can run my hands through your hair, too?” she offered. “Some people find it comforting.”

“Evelyn, do it! Cirrus is the best at head scratches.” Cumulus, who I thought was asleep, spoke from somewhere in the pile of ghouls.

“I used to love having my hair played with....” I muttered, a little sad. My mom would always run her fingers through my hair to calm me. Even Patrick did, in the beginning, when our relationship was good. I would fall asleep in his lap, feeling peaceful. I missed that feeling.

“He doesn’t have to take that from you.” Cirrus spoke if she could read my mind. Her words rolled over in my head and strengthened my resolve. She was right, what Patrick did to me did not have to control me. 

“O-Okay.” my voice was shaky and my body was trembling harder than before as we rearranged our sitting positions so that my head was resting on her crossed legs.

I was shaking so badly, like I was freezing to death. I couldn’t stop the convulsing of my muscles and I felt fear coming over me in huge waves. My teeth were chattering, and hot tears of panic spilled out of the corners of my eyes. Cirrus was still, almost tense, at my reaction.

“Is this too much?” she sounded concerned. I shook my head  _ ‘no’ _ . I could do it. I could be vulnerable like this. I closed my eyes to focus on keeping my breathing steady even though it felt like my chest was on fire. I reminded myself over and over I was safe. Nothing would hurt me. 

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt like I could breathe normally again. My heart was still beating at the pace of a hummingbird’s, but I felt slightly better. Cirrus was still tense and I could feel her watching me.

“Can you please touch my hair?” I murmured, eyes still closed. Cirrus’ hand touched the top of my head and I jumped. It felt like she had long nails, but I assumed they were claws. I noticed she was trembling slightly. Was she afraid to hurt me?

She kept her hand still to see if I would shake again. I was still trembling, but not nearly as violently. Satisfied with my reaction, she started to gently run her fingers through my wavy hair, pulling out the small half bun on the top of my head. My shoulders were tense at the feeling of her claws on my scalp, but slowly relaxed at the repetitive sensation. Little alarm bells beat against my skull, screaming danger, but they were getting quieter. The feeling of someone touching my hair reminded me of safer times with my mom when she was alive. The more I thought of her, the more I relaxed and the more my heart calmed. I could hear her voice saying  _ “We can’t control what happens to us, my dear, but we can control how we react.” _

She was right. She always was. 

I must have fallen asleep at some point. I was still in Cirrus’ lap, but she had fallen back and was fast asleep. The movie had long since ended, but the TV was still on and cast a sickly glow on the pile of ghouls in the middle of my room. I could hear them all breathing out of sync.

I slowly sat up, making sure to not wake Cirrus. I must have been sleeping deeply because I felt rested and the sun wasn’t even up. I didn’t want to wake the ghouls, so making some tea or turning on the lights was out of the question. I glanced over at the open maw of my doorway into the corridor. Maybe a walk would do me some good.

The stone corridors were lit by yellow-tinged electric lights. No one was around at this time of night, so it was unnaturally quiet as I walked the halls. My footsteps echoed around me and I felt like I would see some kind of Satanic spirit at any minute. Either that, or a group of guys with cameras looking for ghosts.

I expected to at least see one or two clergy members, but it seemed like everyone was staying in their rooms. I wondered if I was breaking the curfew Sister Imperator warned me about. Well, if I was it’s not like she would find out, right? There was no one around to see me.

I wandered down hallways that all looked the same. I didn’t get turned around much anymore, but I always seemed to find places I hadn’t been before. I found myself in a long corridor with large wooden doors lining both sides. Each door had a silver plaque with a name engraved. I found doors with Sister Imperator and Papa’s names on them. I assumed that these were offices for important clergy members.

Turning a corner in to another hall of similar doorways, I noticed a trickle of light coming from under one door. It was the only one that had any lights on at all. Curious, I examined the nameplate.

_ Cardinal Copia _

Of course it was.

It looked like his door had been replaced after the ghouls knocked it down. I could see scuffs on the doorframe from where it had been flung off its hinges. I contemplated if I should try to enter. He had forced the ghouls to leave, and they weren’t even the ones who screamed in his face. I felt I would be even less welcome.

I gently rapped on the door and placed my ear to the thick wood to see if I could hear anything. Maybe he had just fallen asleep in his office. To my dismay, I could hear the rustling of papers and it sounded like someone was walking around. I hoped that he hadn’t been up all night.

I knocked again, more forcefully, when Copia didn’t answer the door. I could still hear him moving around, but he wasn’t making any attempts to come closer.

“Copia?” I said, my voice echoing in the empty halls. “It’s me... It’s Evelyn.”

I heard shuffling move closer, but the door didn’t open. Where the light shone under the door, I could see the shadows of his feet. I sighed.

“Look I... I’m sorry.” I hadn’t planned to apologize to him tonight, especially not through a door, but it felt like the right thing at the moment. When he still didn’t open the door or move, I continued.

“I know you were just doing what you thought was best. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.” I waited for a noise, response, anything, but I was only met with silence. 

“I tried some touch therapy today.” I hoped that he would be happy that I was still taking some of his advice. “I could lay my head in Cirrus’ lap. I even fell asleep.” Still no movement behind the door. 

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay.” I pressed my hand to the door as if I could feel him through it. “I just wanted to apologize. You don’t even have to forgive me. I just need you to know that I really appreciated all of your help. I know you meant well.” I placed my forehead against the door with a quiet  _ ‘thunk’ _ . 

“And... thank you so much for the flower. I love it.”

I waited for any kind of movement or noise. The silence of the hallway was more noticeable than ever. I heard movement behind the door, but instead of the door opening, I saw the shadows of his feet disappear and heard him walking away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluffiest, most wholesome chapter, and Copia isn't even in it... oh, well. 
> 
> I just realized some people might not know what a 'B&E' is. It's slang for breaking and entering. 
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be angsty, but somehow turned in to Evelyn's Super Chill Ghoul Sleepover. Maybe more angst next week? Who knows?


	12. Chapter 12 -- Methods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ghouls continue Evelyn's therapy and Papa gives her some advice on how to deal with Copia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Sunday/Mother's Day!
> 
> Nothing too crazy this chapter so I just wanted to say thank you again for your comments. I spent some time this week replying to them and they really mean the world to me. 
> 
> \--Birdy

 

After I proved to myself that I could try to control my thoughts, it was easier to imagine myself recovering.  So, over the next few weeks, I focused hard on my therapy.

 

The ghouls were more than happy to help, but having all the ghouls around me every day seemed excessive. They also had to get ready for the upcoming tour, so we agreed to follow a version of Copia’s plan with minor changes.

 

I wouldn’t have a guard 24/7. We figured that, if Patrick set foot in the church, someone would see him before he could get to me. We also didn’t have a set schedule for who would come see each day. Once band practice was over, whatever ghoul that wanted to would come and find me.

 

Everyone had different ways of going about it, so every day was interesting.

 

The Ghoulettes were the ones who spent the most time with me. I hadn’t had girl friends in such a long time so I enjoyed sitting and chatting with them. They mostly wanted to know how ‘gal pals’, as Cumulus called it, hung out on Earth. It seemed like, in Hell, a lot of their ‘girl time’ was violent or sexual, so they found painting nails, doing facials, and gossiping to be quaint. 

 

Once I showed them all the beauty products they could online, they had a field day. Piles of boxes were arriving to the church full of face masks, peels, nail polishes, and cute headbands with animal ears on them. I didn’t dare to ask where they got the money for it all. I also had to explain to them you couldn’t do a peel-off mask every day if you wanted to keep the skin on your face.

 

Since Cirrus and Cumulus couldn’t take their masks off in front of me, a lot of touch therapy with them became them trying out products on me. After a few sessions, I had to ask them to slow down on the beauty treatments because my skin was screaming at me from the abuse.

 

The best day, though, was when Cirrus bought a ton of makeup and suggested that my touch exercise for the day would be to let her recreate a look she saw online. She did not understand what anything was, so it was a complete disaster, but I didn’t shake at all as she applied different things to my face. I was too busy laughing.

 

I tried to paint Cumulus’ nails once, but I was trembling so hard that I made an absolute mess. That day we discovered that I had terrible reactions when I tried to touch someone rather than when someone touched me.

 

I knew I could control my own reactions when someone touched me, but I could not control the actions of others if I touched them. Knowing this, my panic skyrocketed if I reached out for another person. There were multiple times I had a severe meltdown because of it. I would cry, shake, and apologize over and over, feeling like a failure. Cirrus, Cumulus, and Aether would attempt to have me touch them the most, and they could deal with my breakdowns the best. They always moved me to a private place, let me ride out my attack, and comforted me in whatever way felt best for me that day.

 

The exception to the rule was Mountain. Whether he touched me or I touched him, I would never have an attack. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, maybe it was that he rarely talked, but one day I found that I could touch his shoulder with no problems. Sure, I was still shaking, but it wasn’t the nuclear meltdown I had with the others.

 

I often spent my time with Mountain leaning on him and reading, or browsing thins online. He rarely said anything, but I caught him trying to read over my shoulder once, so I began to angle my books so he could read them. It was very calming. On days where I was on my laptop, I would show him random videos. He seemed to get more engaged when I watched animal videos, but he never said if he enjoyed them or not.

 

After the first night with the ghouls, I thought Cirrus would be the most gung-ho about different methods to acclimate me to touch.

 

Surprisingly, that award went to Aether.

 

While I had incidents with the others, none of them were nearly as bad as when Aether had accidentally grabbed me. Because of this, his focus for me was to get me used to random touches I couldn’t see. His practices were the most practical, but were also the ones I dreaded the most.

 

Time with Aether would go one of two ways:

 

The most common one was he would try to touch my shoulder when I was distracted.

 

He somehow found out I used to want to be a graphic designer, and would get me drawing supplies and have me focus on something. I hadn’t drawn since my mom died, so I was very rusty. Between him scaring the shit out of me by touching me, and my annoyance at how my art skills had deteriorated, I got angry at him quickly. If I asked him, he would stop and just let me relax, but most of the time I tried to soldier through it. I told myself it was like training a muscle. It wouldn’t get stronger unless I kept using it.

 

That didn’t mean I didn’t break down crying from time to time.

 

Aether’s other method, the one that caused the most problems, was trying to touch me while we walked around the church.

 

He used a similar method to what Cirrus used to get me calm enough to lie in her lap. He would just talk about the band or the other ghouls, whatever really, not expecting me to respond. At random intervals, he would touch my arm, my shoulder, or my back. He told me beforehand what the exercise would be, but I still frequently bolted away from him and pressed myself up against the wall like he had just tried to attack me.

 

It was the exercise where I saw the least amount of improvement, so I got annoyed when I saw Aether come to get me after band practice.

 

He took it in stride, though, telling me that one day I would thank him.

 

I knew he was right, but I would never admit it.

 

Rain attempted to work with me once, but the poor thing was too nervous about upsetting me to even try to touch me, so I didn't push him to try. But even though we never did any therapy, Rain would still be the come to see me every few days. I think the others sent him so I could get a break, because we would just sit and talk or watch a movie. It was a nice reprieve from the constant emotional barrage I was under with the others.

 

I noted that Dewdrop and Swiss never tried to treat me. Sometimes Dew would come with Aether, and Swiss would come with Mountain, but neither made any attempt to touch me.

 

I asked Aether about it and he just replied “It’s for the best.”

 

The one person I expected to see was Copia, but he never came.

 

Since I had tried to talk to him at his office, I had only seen him a handful of times. If he didn’t just run away when he saw me, each brief conversation was stilted and forced. Like it was some formality. No more _‘topolino’_ , only ‘Miss Evelyn’. I would catch him watching me feed the strays from time to time, but he would always leave when I noticed him.

 

He had pulled back from me so severely that it hurt. I felt so guilty, and him becoming almost a stranger made my heart ache. Copia was the first friend I had made since leaving Patrick; he was the first person I had voluntarily touched since I left the hospital. I missed him.  I wondered if he even knew that the ghouls were helping me.

 

On one of our walks, I asked Aether how Copia was doing and he shrugged.

 

“I don’t think he’s slowed down for a second.” He sighed. “He looks like he’s running himself ragged. I don’t even know if he sleeps.” I felt a lump build in my throat. “I think it’s because of the tour coming up.” Aether tried to assure me, but it didn’t work.

 

August was quickly ending, and the ghouls were becoming busier as the tour got closer. They left at the beginning of September for a month, and as the date was drawing nearer, I was growing concerned.

 

I had made a lot of progress. I only rarely shook when touched by the ghouls anymore. I could touch them if I mentally prepared myself long enough. I could even handle Aether’s random touches without running away. There were still bad days, but there were far more good ones now. The ghouls even had me be the center of one of their sleeping piles one night. I could only stay in it for five minutes before I panicked, but I wouldn’t have been able to do it for 30 seconds before.

 

What worried me, though, was what would happen when they left. I wasn’t sure if I would be comfortable with other people handling my therapy. I had never wanted to try. What if I just stopped when they left and didn't work on touching anyone at all? Would I regress? The thought of going back to how I was a month ago sounded miserable.

 

I brought up my concerns to Aether one day, and he furrowed his brow. He must not have thought about it before.

 

“We’ll figure something out.” He assured me.

 

The next day, Papa was the one who showed up.

 

I was sitting in one of the large, gothic window sills of the abbey, goofing around on my laptop, when Papa leaned against the wall and introduced himself as the person who would handle my therapy that day.

 

I stared at him. Was he serious? Was this a test?

 

“Why...?” I asked skeptically and Papa made a show of looking offended.

 

“Do you think I would do a bad job, _gattina_?” I rolled my eyes.

 

“I mean why you and not one of the others who have been working with me all month?”

 

“Variety is good in these kinds of things, eh?” Papa held out his hand and I just stared at it. My mind immediately raced, and I felt disappointed in myself. So I couldn’t touch anyone outside of the ghouls. Would I have to desensitize myself to every person I wanted to get close to?

 

“Hey.” Papa broke me out of my thoughts. “What’s so different?” I scowled and Papa laughed. “I mean, how is touching me different from touching Aether? Or Mountain?”

 

“I... I don’t know what you’ll do.” I said as if it as obvious.

 

“Do you really not know?” He pressed me. I felt ashamed. I had basically just said I didn’t trust him.

 

“Is anyone in this church ever going to hurt you?” He was trying to get me to admit I was being irrational. When I just shrugged, he laughed again.

 

“Would I let them?” He flashed me that charming grin of his and I sighed, putting my head in my hands.

 

Papa’s hand was still extended out, waiting patiently. It reminded me of Copia holding his hand out on that first night. I felt a pain in my chest at the memory. It must have read on my face, because Papa’s smile faltered.

 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable--”

 

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” I was speaking more to myself than to him.

 

Papa was the first person in the church who had known about my condition. Without me saying a word, he understood and didn’t judge me for an instant. He deserved my trust.

 

I stared at his cotton gloved hand for a little longer before I reached for him. My hand was viciously shaking, but Papa held his still. I let me hand drop in to his and fought the urge to close my eyes and look away. By the ecstatic look on Papa’s face, you would think I just gave him a check for a million dollars.

 

Papa remained stock still for a while until my trembling had mostly subsided. He kissed the back of my hand and I jumped, letting out a high-pitched squeal. Papa bit back a laugh as I pulled away.

 

“That wasn’t funny.” I snapped at him.

 

“I suppose not...” He didn’t sound apologetic. “But get used to it in a church full of Italians.” He offered his hand again, which I was slow to take again, and he pulled me to my feet.

 

Papa draped his arm over my shoulder as we walked the church grounds. Aether had done this many times during our walks, but my knees were shaking and my body was stiff as a board. Papa either did not notice, or he pretended not to, as he asked about how the ghouls had gone about acclimating me to touch.

 

As I had gone through the full list of exercises the ghouls tried, Papa had guided me to the garden. It was hot, being the end of August, and Papa pulled away from me, draping himself over a bench in the shade. I leaned against the base of the Lilith statue, crossing my arms.

 

“And the Cardinal?” I somehow tensed even more. I hesitated to speak.

 

“He has done nothing.” I muttered and Papa looked confused.

 

“So he’s just been.... visiting you? Like Rain? No touching?”

 

“No, I haven’t seen him at all, really.”

 

“Really?” Papa’s voice was terse. I nodded.

 

 _“Figlio de puttana!”_ Papa shouted, and I visibly flinched. He looked sorry and took a deep breath to steady himself.

 

“This was his idea, but he does not help?” His voice was even, but it was obvious he was seething.

 

“Sorry, _gattina,_ sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s just... After centuries, you would think the man would learn how to deal with his feelings.” I gave Papa a look

 

“I know he’s old, but I think joking about him being over 100 years old is a little petty.”

 

“Over 400 years old, actually.” Papa said matter-of-factly. “445 this year, I think.” Was that why he would dodge questions about his age? Wait, was I even entertaining the thought Copia was really _that_ old? I could accept the ghouls being literal ghouls, especially after feeling the claws on their hands, but Copia being some kind of immortal? There was no way.

 

“Oh, did you not know?” Papa sounded like the office gossip with some hot, new drama. “Yes, our Cardinal was a devout Catholic once. Then he sold this soul to Satan to save himself from the plague.”

 

“The _plague?_ ” This was too far-fetched, there’s no way. “As in the _bubonic plague?_ ”

 

“Yes.” Papa nodded emphatically. He looked overjoyed to be the person telling me this. “The black around his eyes? His mouth?” He leaned towards me. “He’s not just trying to copy me.” He gestured to the paint on his face and he laughed when I gave him a look. “He already had the plague when he sold his soul, so it already did the damage. So he has.... _imputridire?_ Not sure in English. He hides it with paint and pretends it is a fashion statement.”

 

This was a little too much. I had never believed in any deities, especially not after what I had gone through, but this was making me question everything I thought I knew. The ghouls were proof of an existence of a Hell, so it wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to imagine Satan was real. But Satan coming to one priest, a Catholic priest, in the middle of the fucking _plague,_ to grant him immortality? She could look at the claws or tails on the ghouls to prove that they’re hellspawn. There was no way for me to confirm that Copia was over four centuries old.

 

“Don’t believe me?” Papa responded to my silence with a chuckle.

 

“Sure, I believe you.”  My tone was dripping sarcasm “Of course he’s immortal! Satan handcrafted the ghouls himself! And what are you, a wizard?”

 

“Half demon, but we are not talking about me.”

 

“Oh my God.” pinched the bridge of my nose.

 

“Not kind to speak of God in my church, _gattina._ ” Papa grinned mischievously.

 

I sighed and looked down at my shoes, not wanting to play Papa’s games. The grass in the garden was still perfectly green despite the summer heat. I wondered if the garden hid some supernatural secrets as well.

 

“Are you mad with him?” Papa asked after a few minutes of silence. I hadn’t really asked myself that and I mulled the question over for a moment.

 

“I’m more sad than anything.” I muttered. “If I could have just controlled my temper... talked with him...then maybe he wouldn't be tormenting himself.” I felt like crying. 

 

“Well, he cannot work himself to death, so no need to worry about that.” I could feel Papa smiling at me and I scowled at my shoes.

 

My silence must have concerned him, because he stood from the bench and squatted down on his haunches at my feet so I would have to look at him.

 

“It is not you.” He sounded assuring, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. He could tell and frowned. “You have heard of this ‘Catholic guilt’, yes?” I shrugged and nodded. I really wasn’t in a mood to talk about Copia and I hoped Papa could see it in my body language. He sighed at my stubbornness, but continued to make his point.

 

“The Cardinal... He has this badly. Worse than anyone I have seen.” Papa paused for me to react and sighed again when I just stared at him, waiting for him to get to the point.

 

“What I am saying, _gattina._ ” He sounded annoyed, and I shifted my weight awkwardly under his gaze. “He is punishing himself. Nothing to do with you, it is him.”

 

“He’s been avoiding me though.” When I finally spoke, I sounded defeated. I thought back to all the times he had run from me when I saw him. I chewed on my lip and Papa stood, his legs tired from squatting, and stretched his arms over his head.

 

“He will not approach you on his own.” Papa shrugged. “I think he thinks you hate him, and that he deserves this. You go to him.” I felt another pang of sadness and chewed harder on my lip. Should I have tried harder to talk to him? Has he been suffering in silence and I’ve just let him?

 

“Ah, ah! Stop that!” Papa waved his hands in my face. He must have been able to see that I was beating myself up. “Not your fault.” He said assertively. “No changing the past, so no use worrying.” I shrugged, and he grabbed me by the shoulders. I jumped at the sudden contact, and Papa waited to make sure I was okay with his touch, and when I trembled, but didn’t get away, he continued.

 

“No more shrugs. No more wanting to change things. You can do something now, eh?” His eyes sparked hopefully, thinking he had found the right thing to cheer me up. His gaze was hard to meet.

 

“You mean just talking to him?” Papa nodded, and I shook my head. “He runs away if I so much as look at him.”

 

“You are smart.” He said, emphasizing his compliment with a pat on my shoulder that made me jump. “You will think of something.”

 

“What do you want me to do? Chase him down and pin him in a corner?” I frowned at him. Papa seemed to consider this.

 

“... Are you faster than him?”

 

A grin spread across his face when he finally got me to laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Copia in this chapter. I really did. I tried so hard. But he just didn't fit. I want the rat man just as much as a lot of you do. The events I wanted to be in one chapter have now been broken in to 3 because I have no self control, which is why he isn't back yet. 
> 
> I've already started next week's chapter, though, and it should be really Copia heavy and feelsy. I hope it will make up for the distinct lack of rat that the story has had lately.


	13. Chapter 13 -- Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn finds and old furry friend who helps her reconnect with Copia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! I hope everyone had a good week!
> 
> It's finally time for some reconciliation. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments. You all are so great and I still can't believe anyone is reading this, let alone liking it, so I am always so grateful for all of you. 
> 
> \--Birdy

In an old building like the abbey, I expected to see various wild animals wandering around who made their home in its stone walls. Bugs and the stray cats wandered around the halls every day. But, more often than not, the critter I would run into was a mouse or a rat.

 

What I didn’t expect to see, however, was a rat I knew.

 

Papa and I had just parted so he could do whatever it was he did every day. I was taking the long way back to my room to think over what he had told me when I felt something scurry over my foot.

 

I shrieked and backed in to the wall, thankful that no one else was in the hall to see me. I scanned the ground for what touched me and saw a rat on the other side of the hall. He was sitting up on his hind legs, staring at me. We observed each other in silence, his little whiskers twitching, when I realized that I had seen the creature before. Except last time I saw him, he had been perched on a Cardinal’s shoulder, looking terrified.

 

“Asmodeus?”  

 

Though he looked more curious now, with his nose sniffing the air, I was certain that this rat was Copia’s. How had he gotten out?

 

I crouched down and slowly approached him, hoping he would remember me and let me pick him up. Copia was probably keeping himself so busy that he hadn’t noticed one of his rats had gotten out, otherwise I would have heard him shouting over every square inch of the church. How long would it be before he realized Asmodeus had made another escape? I couldn’t just let him keep wandering around by himself. I would just get the little guy and bring him back to Copia’s room.

 

I inched ever closer, trying not to scare him away. The rat stood a little taller and his ears perked up as I reached out my hand to him. He made a careful approach on all fours, sniffing at me. He seemed to ponder my scent. I realized, as he quickly stood up with his ears at full attention, that he remembered me.

 

Unfortunately, he remembered me as the owner of a cat that tried to kill him.

 

Asmodeus squeaked and zipped off down the hall. I watched him scurry around a corner and threw my arms in the air in exasperation, falling back to sit on the ground.

 

“Why do animals keep running from me?” I grumbled aloud as if I expected God, Satan, or whoever to answer.

 

I realized that every second I was on the floor was more space between myself and Asmodeus, so I sprung up and sprinted after him.

 

Finding a brown rat in a hallway made of brown stone was a nearly impossible task. I could sometimes see his tail as he moved from one side of the corridor to the next, but he was still hard to keep track of. My lungs were burning from the effort of just keeping him in my sights. Copia had said Asmodeus was one of his fastest rats, hadn’t he?

 

“Why are we running?”

 

I broke stride as a ghoul seemed to appear out of nowhere next to me. Swiss, not even breaking a sweat, skidded to a halt in front of me as I sputtered to a stop.

 

“D-dammit, Swiss.” I had had little physical exercise since before I dated Patrick, so my body was not ready for a run. I was gasping, hands on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath. Swiss suddenly startling me did not help me in the slightest.

 

“You okay?” The ghoul quirked his head and casually folded his arms. He wasn’t even breathing heavily, and that made me feel even more out of shape. Could demons get out of breath in the first place?

 

“Yeah... Yeah. I’m great.” I straightened up and put a hand to my chest, feeling the rapid beating of my heart. “One of...” I had to get adequate air into my lungs to talk. “Copia’s rat... He got out again.”

 

“I thought you and the boss weren’t talking?”

 

“We’re... well... kind of?” I didn’t have time to explain the intricacies of what was going on with Copia. “Look, I just need to catch Asmodeus and get him back to Copia’s room.”

 

“He named a rat Asmodeus?”

 

“Not important, Swiss!” I brushed him off and started running again. Swiss followed, keeping pace with me easily as I booked it through the halls. Stopping to talk to Swiss had let Asmodeus get even farther away and I couldn’t see him anymore. I was lucky that we were in a long, straight corridor, so I didn’t have to guess any turns he might have taken. My biggest concern was that he had burrowed into one of the loose gaps in the stone walls. I would never find him then.

 

“Want me to help?” Swiss broke my focus, and I groaned in annoyance.

 

“Do you speak in anything but questions?” I jabbed back at him.

 

“Do you want me to?” Swiss countered with a shit-eating grin and a laugh. I couldn’t even imagine trying to laugh while running this hard.

 

“If you’re gonna follow me...” I gulped in more air. “Then, yeah, help me find him.” We were reaching the end of the hallway where it met a perpendicular crossing. If we hit that point, it was a 50/50 guess which direction the rat had scurried down. That was if he had even got as far as the hallway without diverting in to some crack in the wall. I remembered hearing somewhere that rats can fit through anything they could fit their head in. With how old the building was, there would be no shortage of nooks and crannies a smart rat could take advantage of.

 

I was scanning the surroundings frantically when Swiss cut right in front of me, making me run into him. I fell backwards onto the ground as the ghoul pounced at the wall like a cat. While I was recovering from the fall and the sudden contact, Swiss turned and triumphantly held up a rat in his hands.

 

“This him?” The rodent was squirming and fighting against his hands, head and tail trashing frantically.

 

“Yes, but you’re scaring him to death! How hard are you holding him?!” I scrambled towards Swiss on my hands and knees. I held out my hands and Swiss placed the rat in my hands, huffing at me.

 

“It wasn’t trying to hurt him or nothing...” He grumbled and I held the rat gently with both hands.

 

“I know, I know...” I pet Asmodeus on the head with my thumbs, chest heaving from the run. “Thanks, Swiss.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I would have ever caught him.” He puffed up at that, his ego stroked by the praise. I stayed on the floor, hushing and calming the rat in my hands until he stopped struggling. When I glanced up, Swiss was looking at me, his head cocked to the side again.

 

“No wonder the boss likes you.”

 

“What do you mean?” It confused me why sitting on the ground, holding a rat, was an indicator of Copia liking me. “We’re not even speaking right now...” I murmured.

 

“W-well yeah, but...” Swiss hummed and hawed, trying to find the right words. “Just because he’s not talking to you, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.” I gave him another look, and he stammered again. “I mean... ugh...” He seemed conflicted. He hunched over, his hands on his knees and his head hung low. He let out a sigh.

 

“What is it?”  I asked. He put his head in his hands, rubbing at his mask.

 

“Look…” Another conflicted sigh. “We promised not to tell, but the boss has been asking about you. About how you are doing.” My heart dropped in to my stomach. “So that’s what I mean. Just because he isn’t talking to you… You okay?”

 

“Yeah...” I sniffled. My guilt had returned full force and was threatening to spill out my eyes. Swiss’ head quirked over to the other side as he observed me in silence, not sure what to say. “Does he...” My voice cracked and my throat strained from trying to hold back tears. “Does he really think I hate him that much?” Swiss contemplated this for a moment.

 

“I’m not sure if he thinks you hate him.” He tried to find the right words, “He said once he feels like the doesn’t deserve to be around you.”

 

“Wh-what?” My heart sank down to my shoes. “Why?” Papa had said that he suspected that Copia felt this way, him telling the ghouls this was heartbreaking.

 

“He has some hang-ups. I dunno.” Swiss shrugged. “Aeth has tried to tell him you want him to help, but he’s not having it.” he scoffed “You’d think he’d have dropped that Catholic ‘ _Oh_ _, woe is me, forgive me, O Lord’_ stuff a long time ago.”

 

I looked at Asmodeus in my hands. He was just watching me calmly, nose twitching.  A determination to make it right replaced the guilt I was feeling.

 

“Do you know where he is?” I asked Swiss, and he shrugged.

 

“Why would I?”

 

“All right.” I muttered. “I’ll figure it out.” Asmodeus was getting antsy from being restricted by my hands for so long. I would just have to get him back to his cage and then try to find Copia. I got to my feet and headed toward Copia’s quarters.

 

“Good luck.” Swiss stood when I did, but did not follow me. “You won’t need it, though.”

 

“What does that mean?” I stopped, turning to Swiss and raising an eyebrow.

 

“I think you’re the only person he’ll listen to.”  

 

“I’m not so sure about that, Swiss.” The ghoul shrugged at me and turned on his heel to head in the other direction, giving me a thumbs up as he left.

 

The entire walk there, I prayed that the door to the room would be unlocked. I doubted that he was staying there much nowadays, just moving from practices to his office and back again. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he only visited his room to feed the rats a few times a day.

 

I reached his room and hesitated to open the door. If it was unlocked, it would be an invasion of privacy to just waltz in there. I stood outside the door until Asmodeus squeaked and tried to get out of my hands. It looked like he wanted to run to the doors and get back to his home. All right, then. For Asmodeus’ sake, I would just go in, put him back in his cage, and then leave. Copia wouldn’t even know that I had been there.

 

I cautiously tested the doorknob and felt no resistance, the door opening easily. I entered the room and darted right for the cages against the wall. The rats let out a chorus of squeaks as I approached, excited to see me, which warmed my heart. I hadn’t seen them in so long, and it was nice to see they remembered me.

 

“Hey, guys.” I whispered. “I brought back your brother. He was a pain in the ass to catch.” I opened the door to a cage and set Asmodeus down inside, petting his head with two fingers before closing the door. Mission accomplished.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

I jumped and turned to see Copia sitting at his desk, staring vacantly at me. I must have not noticed him as I beetled over to the cages. He just stared at me and I immediately felt awkward getting caught walking in to his room without even knocking.

 

“Asmodeus...” I pointed at the cage feebly. “Swiss helped me catch him.” Copia looked slightly alarmed at that. “I made sure he wasn’t hurt.” His lips were a thin line as he contemplated whether to trust me. He just gave me a grunt and a nod before hunching back over his desk, scribbling away.

 

“Copia...” He didn’t even look at me. “Copia, I need to talk to you.” His pen stilled and his eyes widened for a moment before he went back to writing. “Oh, come on!” He was exasperating. Papa was right when he said he was stubborn.

 

Good thing I was too.

 

“Busy.” Copia murmured, so quiet I almost couldn’t understand him.

 

“Busy every day for the past month?” His hand stilled before he nodded slightly. He didn’t continue writing, but he still wouldn’t look at me. “Too busy to come see me even once?” His eyes closed, and he took in a deep breath.

 

“I was not needed.” His tone was even, but something told me it upset him. “The ghouls tell me you are recovering nicely without me.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I never want to see you again.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It doesn’t mean that you should treat me like a stranger whenever you see me.” Copia’s shoulders sagged.

 

“It’s for the best. Companionship, friendship... I was never much for either.”

 

“Christ’s sake, Copia, you can’t keep doing this.” He shrugged and I could see his lips pressed into that line again. He resumed writing, and I groaned in frustration. He wouldn’t even look at me. I couldn’t take that anymore.

 

“Stop writing for two fucking minutes!” I stormed over to his desk and slammed my hands on the wood surface, causing Copia to jump and finally look at me. He looked like a frightened animal and I felt a pit build in my stomach.

 

“Sorry... I’m sorry.” I sighed, but Copia stayed frozen in place. “Look. I obviously have some anger issues, but that doesn’t mean I’m still mad at you. I was barely even upset at you to begin with.”

 

“But I treated you p-poorly. I-I upset you.”

 

“And I should have talked to you rationally and worked out my problems like an adult.” I sighed, looking away from him. “We were both wrong. But not so wrong we need to avoid each other.”

 

“But I-”

 

“No more ‘buts.’” I cut him off and he froze.  I stared at my hands on the desk and took in a deep breath, building courage. It was silent as I gathered my thoughts and I realized Copia was holding his breath.

 

“Copia, I miss you.” I felt tears burning my eyes. My throat was tight as I tried not cry. “And it hurts so much to see you tormenting yourself like this over something I did.” I always got emotional in situations like this.  There was silence except for my shallow breathing as I bit back tears.

 

“I have to go.” Copia stood hastily from his chair and collected a few things from his desk. “Work... More work elsewhere.” He turned and dashed for the door.

 

“Copia, please!” I bolted after him and grabbed his shoulder. Even though the sudden contact made me shake violently, I felt desperate. I needed him to forgive himself. I couldn’t live with myself if I let him stay like this. Copia froze and stared at my hand as if I would hurt him.

 

“So you have made progress.” Copia swallowed before he shrugged off my hand. “The ghouls have done well.” There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice and his shoulders sagged again. He resumed his walk to the door, just slower this time, sadder. I felt the dam of tears break as they rushed down my face. I couldn’t let him leave. Nothing would change if I did.

 

“Stop!” I pleaded to him, hurriedly closing the gap between us and throwing my arms around his waist, burying my face in his back. He tensed, stiff as a board.

 

“M-Miss Evelyn-!”

 

“You were my first friend since I got out.” I clutched to the fabric of his red cassock, afraid to let go even though my entire body was shaking and screaming in fear. “You were the first person I hugged since Patrick.” I was full on crying now, tears falling on his clothing and wet patches forming there. “Please... Please...” I begged, not knowing what I was asking for.

 

There was a loud clatter as books and papers fell to the ground and, in an instant, Copia turned and hugged me back. The smell of incense, the smell that meant safety, flooded my nose. I pressed my face in to his chest and breathed it in.

 

“I’m sorry... So sorry.” His voice cracked. His head rested on mine, his face in my hair. I could feel his chest trembling. I just sobbed into his chest, shoulders heaving, as we embraced. My mind overcome with emotion and couldn’t that I was touching another person.

 

“I was afraid...” my hair muffled Copia’s voice, and he squeezed me tighter. “I couldn’t face you.” He steadied his breathing, and I felt tears drip onto my head.

 

“With you making such progress without me, I felt I had failed you. I couldn’t bear to hear you say you didn’t need me and so I...” Another pause as he let a breath out through his nose. “I decided to just assume you didn’t to avoid the pain of hearing you say it.”

 

“I got mad at you once over something so small and you thought I would just abandon our friendship forever?”

 

“Yes...” He murmured in to my hair. He paused, deciding if he should continue or not. “I need you to understand. I have been around for a long time...”

 

“Papa told me...” I admitted and Copia sighed.

 

“So you know...” He sighed in to my hair before continuing. “I have lost so much that I have devised so many ways to avoid getting hurt. I run from anything that may cause me any heartache, because after centuries of suffering I don’t think I can take much more.” I held him tighter, and I felt his arms squeeze around me. I was shaking harder, but paid it little mind.  

 

“Not that I didn’t care.” Copia explained. “It was that I cared too much, and it scared me.” Another silence and another squeeze before I heard him whisper. “But I missed you, too.”

 

Copia pulled away from me and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer full of crumpled papers and rifled through it until he produced an envelope and gave it to me.

 

“I wrote this a long time ago, but was too afraid to give it to you.” The envelope had my name written on it in Copia’s elegant handwriting. “I was certain you wouldn’t read it.” I turned the envelope over and went to open it before Copia grabbed it from my hands in a panic.

 

“N-Not here.” He said before handing the letter back. “Later. Please.” I nodded, and he relaxed. He then busied himself with collecting the supplies he had dropped and arranging them back on his desk.

 

“I really have a lot of work, though.” He admitted shyly. “I don’t mean to kick you out but...” He trailed off and opened several books, flipping through them to find the right pages.

 

“I get it.” I was still looking at the letter in my hand. “But you won’t work yourself so hard?” He gave me a shrug.

 

“It really is a lot... Got to prepare for when I leave.”

 

“Well, then... At least come see me sometime?” I saw his cheeks turn a slight rosy color, and he nodded before picking up his pen and getting back to work.

 

“I’ll let you work, then.” I said, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. “Goodnight, Copia. See you soon?” Another nod from Copia.

 

“Soon.” He murmured. “Goodnight.”

 

I went to leave, inspecting the envelope in my hands.

 

_“Topolino.”_  I was almost out the door when Copia called after me. My heart stuttered and then sped up when he used the nickname he gave me.

 

“I am... v-very... I am proud of you.” He stammered, awkward and nervous, keeping his back turned. “Being able to... t-to do... that.” I assumed he meant hug him. “You have come far.”

 

“Thank you.” I smiled, closing the door behind me to leave him to his work, before I sprinted back to my room to read his letter, my heart feeling a thousand times lighter.

 

_ Miss Evelyn, _

 

_ I have tried to write this so many times. No combination of words seems enough to apologize for the mistake I have made. _

 

_ The last thing I want in this world is to lose your friendship. It has been a long time since I felt I could open up to someone, and it pains me that have wronged the one person I have trusted in many years. Perhaps one day I can tell you how long it has truly been. _

 

_ You knocked on my door just last night, apologizing to me, and I feel I did not deserve it. I wanted to open the door and beg your forgiveness, but I felt I did not deserve that either. I must also now also apologize for ignoring you. _

 

_ I could write pages and pages about how sorry I am and how much I wish to speak to you face-to-face and reconcile. But I am a coward. I doubt I will even be able to give this to you. _

 

_ If it does somehow find its way to you, Topolino, please know that I value my time with you above all else. Also know that I miss you and will come to you when I feel I deserve your forgiveness. _

 

_ Your friend, _

_ C _

 

_ P.S. I am pleased that you liked my gift. One day, when I have the courage to face you again, I will send you more. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus has brought the two anxious babies together not one, but twice! The ultimate matchmaker. 
> 
> I also cried writing this because I'm a big mushy baby. But I cry writing most of these chapters nowadays so it's to be expected. 
> 
> Next week... Hopefully some cute shit.


	14. Chapter 14 -- Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Copia is nervous about the upcoming tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday (Monday for some because of the late upload)
> 
> Hope you are having a good holiday weekend if you are in the US, or just a good weekend if you're not. 
> 
> Finally, FINALLY, I can do more with these two idiots. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments! I read them all and try to reply when I can. 
> 
> \--Birdy

Copia was, not so subtly, freaking the hell out.

 

He had kept good on his promise to come and see me. In fact, since our conversation, he had been the one handling my daily therapy. But, as the tour grew closer, he started to get more and more jittery. He would focus on what I was saying, but his leg would bounce furiously or he would be pacing. It made me feel anxious too. I was worried I was using up his valuable time.

 

With seven days left before the tour, Copia seemed more anxious than ever.

 

“You don’t have to see me if you’re busy.” I told him, putting my hand on his knee to stop him from tapping his foot.

 

“Not busy.” He muttered, staring at my hand on his leg for a moment before quickly looking away. He interlocked his fingers and rested his hands on his stomach, thumbs twiddling.

 

“Really?” I pressed him. Copia wouldn’t meet my eyes. 

 

“Not  _ too _ busy.” He muttered, his chin tucked in to his chest. “Your recovery is part of my job. Very important.” I removed my hand from his leg and crossed my arms.

 

“The Ghouls and Papa can also help.”

 

“No.” His answer wasn’t harsh, but it was firm. He had been stubbornly avoiding me and now he was stubbornly spending time with me.

 

“You know you don’t owe me anything, right?” I reminded him. Copia pursed his lips.

 

“I know.” He reluctantly agreed. “B-but I just-”

 

“We agreed no more ‘buts.’” I pointed out, and his shoulders slumped. “It’s okay. You’re learning.” I knew he had lived a life where he had apologized for everything, even if it wasn’t his fault.

 

After we reconciled, we agreed on two rules between us: no more 'buts’ and no more running from each other. I had trouble adjusting to it too, but it had been especially hard on Copia. He had centuries of learned behavior to get over.

 

“Maybe I could sit in on rehearsals?” I offered. “You could sit with me, let the ghouls practice without you for a few minutes, and I can watch the rest of the time. Two birds, one stone.” I secretly wanted to see the Copia I saw on stage the day Papa got me my new clothes. He was so confident and charismatic. So different. I wanted to see how he looked from out in the audience.

 

“No. You can’t.” His firm tone was back, but he looked nervous now.

 

“Why?”

 

“T-too much distraction.” He murmured. He suddenly was very interested in looking at a tree close to the bench we were sitting on.

 

“Distraction for you or distraction for me?”

 

“... both?”

 

“Copia.” He sheepishly turned his head to look at me again. But he wasn’t looking  _ at _ me. He fixed his eyes on my ear or the side of my face. He did this whenever he felt he should look at someone but he was too afraid to meet their eyes.

 

“Look at me, please?” I prodded gently.

 

“I am.”

 

I didn't push it.

 

“Why don’t you want me there? Be honest.” His eyes flickered to meet mine before darting away again. I heard his gloves creak as he wrung his hands.

 

“... nervous.” He muttered under his breath, turning pink.

 

“Copia, you are going to be in front of hundreds of people. If you can’t perform in front of one person-”

 

“Crowds are fine.” His thumbs were twiddling again.

 

“Then what are you nervous about?” He hesitated before answering me.

 

“... you.”

 

I don’t know what answer I expected, but it wasn't that.

 

“I-uh-what?” I stammered. “What do you mean?” Copia was silent for a while, carefully choosing his words.

 

“Papa was very beloved.” He spoke carefully. “I understand that many people will not like the way I perform simply because I am not him. I also know I will make mistakes. I am prepared for that.” His eyes were downcast.

 

“But if you... If you didn’t.... or if I...” I felt a pang of sadness in my chest as he floundered for words he didn’t want to say.

 

“I have seen you before, though.” I reminded him. “You were fantastic.”

 

“Thank you.” His voice was meek. He chewed on his lip, face turning a deeper shade of red. “But I didn’t know. If I could see you...” He looked guilty. “I couldn’t.”

 

“That’s okay.” I was a little disappointed, but was not enough to force him to let me be there. “I don’t want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with.” He looked relieved.

 

“But you still can’t keep taking time out of your day like this just to see me.” He opened his mouth to protest, and I put up a finger to silence him. “ _ Especially _ if you are thinking about cutting back on sleep.” He closed his mouth and sighed.

 

"Just come see me when you can. I won’t be mad if I don’t see you every day." He thought for a moment before nodding solemnly.

 

I didn’t see Copia in the days after that and the Ghouls took over my therapy for the rest of the week.

 

“He asked who would do your therapy, then shoved this in our hands and ran off to his office.” Cirrus explained when she handed me the pink carnation and its accompanying note.

 

_ I’m sorry I could not see you today, Topolino. I hope this makes up for it. _

 

I could feel Cirrus and Cumulus practically bursting at the seams, wanting to ask what was going on. Copia insists on being the only one to conduct my touch therapy for weeks, and now he was throwing gifts at me? Suspicious.

 

“It’s not what it looks like.” Their stare was so intense that I got defensive even though there was nothing to defend.

 

“And what do you think it looks like?” Cirrus questioned.

 

“He just feels bad about what happened. You know how he is.” I could tell they didn’t believe me.

 

As the week went on, the rest of the Ghouls had a similar suspicious air about them. They each were unceremoniously given something to give to me.

 

In the following days, Rain came with a large bouquet of peonies, and Mountain came with tulips. Copia then broke the pattern by having Aether give me a book.

 

“Mountain told him you had read all the ones you had.” he explained. “That, and I think he got in trouble for taking all of those flowers from the garden.”

 

The last day before the tour, there was no band practice so everyone could rest and prepare to leave in the morning. The Ghouls invited me to spend the day in their quarters to relax and hang out one last time before everyone left. They said they invited Copia too, but he still had last-minute tasks to finish.

 

I wouldn’t be able to see him before the tour and I tried to convince myself I wasn’t sad about it.

 

“He wants you to come to the show.”

 

We had all be lazing around the common room in relative silence, only half paying attention to a movie, when Dewdrop spoke up.

 

“You mean me?” I had almost fallen asleep on the couch and groggily sat up.

 

“You see anyone else who wouldn’t already be there?”

 

“Dew.” Aether’s voice was stern, a warning.

 

“What!? He does!”

 

“He told me he doesn’t want me to watch him perform.” I muttered, rubbing my eyes to wake myself up. “Said it would make him too nervous.”

 

“When has he ever asked for something he wants?” He wasn’t wrong. I looked to Cirrus to confirm what Dew was saying, and she nodded.

 

“He wants you there, he’s just scared to admit it.”  Cirrus explained.

 

"Sounds like him, yeah." I sighed.

 

“We weren’t going to ask you because...” Cirrus weighed her next words carefully, trying not to offend me. “Well... How would you do at a concert?”

 

She had me there. I hadn’t left the church in a very long time. I had been making progress, but a concert was a big ask. I couldn’t imagine myself in a crowd of screaming fans without having a meltdown.

 

“What about backstage?” Mountain’s deep voice chimed in. “Fewer people. She can go in the green room if it’s too much.” There was a murmur of agreement amongst the Ghouls.

 

“She doesn’t have to be there during setup and sound check, though, so she shouldn’t ride with us on the bus...” Cirrus had her hand on her chin, the cogs turning in her head. “Someone could drive her up before the show, though.” The first show was less than an hour by car, so it was plausible.

 

“If the boss knew she was there, he would lose his shit. It’s better she shows up later.” Swiss added.

 

“Oh, and then it could be a surprise!” Cumulus squealed. She was suddenly very enthusiastic about the plan and looked at me excitedly.

 

“I think a surprise would give him a heart attack.” I joked, but I was making excuses. Even if it was fewer people, there were still a lot of moving parts in running a concert. Anything could happen.

 

“I think seeing you there would help.” Rain rarely spoke up when the entire group was together, so his voice surprised me. “He said he thinks you wouldn’t like the show... But I think it would help his confidence if you did.”

 

There was another murmur of agreement in the room and all eyes were on me, waiting for an answer.

 

“I’ll think about it.” That wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear, but none of them pushed me on it. It was easier than outright saying no. I didn’t think I was ready for something like that.

 

That night, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Unable to sleep, I was pacing around, weighing the pros and cons.

 

“What if he really wants me to come but is too scared to ask?” Tibby was sitting in the center of my bed and I was throwing out these questions at him. I hoped that saying everything out loud would help me make up my mind.

 

"Ugh, but what if he was honest, and he really doesn’t want me there? I could just make things worse..." Tibby mewed. "What was that, Tibbs?" The white fur ball mewed again and blinked his mismatched eyes at me. "You’re not helping."I playfully squished his face. "Not that I thought you would."

 

After another fifteen minutes of pacing, I felt too cooped up in my room. There wasn’t enough space for me to think. The sun had long since gone down, so the church would be quiet. Maybe a late night walk would give me some clarity.

 

I slipped on some shoes, opened my door, and immediately collided with someone standing in my doorway. I let out a startled squawk, stumbling backwards from the impact. The sudden contact triggered something in my brain. Panic built in my chest and I started shaking. I looked up to see who I had hit and immediately recognized the biretta.

 

"C-Christ, Copia, why were you standing there!?" He looked mortified and was shaking.

 

“I-I-I am so sorry.” His voice was fragile and warbled like he would cry. “I didn’t mean to - I didn’t - I am so sorry.”

 

"It's okay." I took a deep breath to calm myself. "But, seriously, were you just standing in front of my door?" He didn't reply.

 

“Why didn’t you knock?” Nothing. “How long were you standing there?” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no words came out. I gave him a moment to collect his thoughts.

 

“I was just c-coming to ask if you w-would watch over the rats while I’m away...” His voice was fragile. “I was worried you were asleep.... D-didn’t want to wake you.”

 

“Copia, I agreed to watch the rats last week.” He tensed. “What’s really going on?” His eyes flickered around anxiously, trying to think of something else to say. His hands toyed anxiously with the sash around his waist. Something was wrong.

 

“Well, I was about to take a walk.” I offered. “Care to join me?” He nodded hesitantly, and I led the way.

 

The walk was painfully, awkwardly silent. I would try to start a conversation and get one, maybe two word responses. I gave up after a while. This walk wasn’t giving me the clarity I was hoping for, so after less than 15 minutes I called it quits and headed back. Copia seemed to get more and more nervous the closer we got to my room, but still wasn’t saying anything.

 

Figuring I couldn’t force him to talk, I bid him goodnight and entered my room. Copia stood in the doorway, unmoving.

 

“Okay, what’s going on?” I turned to face him, hands on my hips. His eyes darted around again as he stammered and stuttered, not making any complete words.

 

“Did something happen?” He shook his head.

 

“Did you want to talk?” He hesitated but shook his head again.

 

“Copia, we could have talked that whole time. Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

 

“No, nothing.” his voice was stilted. “I just - I wanted to -” He clammed up.

 

“Do you want to come in? Sit down and get your thoughts together?” He shook his head again, and I sighed. I wanted to help him, but I was getting annoyed with playing Twenty Questions.

 

“Then you can come back later. I probably won’t be asleep when you do. I don’t care if you wake me up, anyway.” I moved to shut the door. “I’ll see you later.”

 

The motion of my door closing sprung Copia’s brain in to action and he hurriedly placed his hand on the door to stop me from shutting it.

 

"N-No! Please." I stepped back from the door, opening it wide again while Copia tried to compose himself. "I’m sorry. I just - I wanted to -"  He sighed and put his head in his hands, frustrated.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” I wasn’t as frazzled as I was when I had collided with him, so I could put my hand on Copia’s shoulder without hesitation. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes searching mine for something.

 

“I just was wondering... I wanted to ask you...” He let out another frustrated sigh, taking my hand and removing it from his shoulder. It looked like he was giving up on himself.

 

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?” He didn’t reply. He also didn’t let go of my hand. He was staring at it, his gloved thumb tracing over my knuckles. He looked at me, seeing  if I would pull away. When I didn’t, he looked back down at our joined hands.

 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to...” He hesitated again and his lips pressed together into the thin line I had seen on his face so many times. “I wanted to say goodbye, I suppose.” There was a sad lilt to his voice as he kissed he back of my hand. I felt my face heat up and I choked back a surprised squeak. Papa had said this was something I should get used to with Italians, didn’t he?

 

“I will miss you.” He murmured into my knuckles. I could feel his mustache brushing against my skin.  “I feel selfish for saying, but I hope that you will miss me.” I knew I wasn’t getting the full story, but it seemed like he couldn't say what was on his mind.

 

“I will...” I paused, flustered. “I’ll miss you, Copia.”  His eyebrows shot up and he looked up at me, shocked.

 

“Call me when you can?” My voice came out meek and quiet. “You know where I’ll be.”.

 

“Of course.” His smile was sad when let go of my hand and took a step back. I could see there was something else he wanted to say, but he just muttered a terse “Goodnight, Miss Evelyn.” and headed off down the hall. As he left, I watched him remove his biretta and run his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

 

That made up my mind.

 

Once Copia was out of sight, I headed to the Ghouls’ quarters, hoping that someone was still awake. Aether was in the common room, rifling through the cabinets for a late-night snack. He turned when he heard me enter and he gave me a warm wave.

 

“What’s up?” He asked. “We’re running low on food if that’s what you wanted.”

 

“I’ll go.” Aether blinked and I couldn’t tell if he was shocked or confused. “The concert. I’ll go.”

 

“Oh, good.” Aether let out a sigh of relief and laughed.

 

“What?” I didn’t understand what was funny.

 

“We already got you a ride.” He chuckled. “It would have been awkward if you said no.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when all of your friends think you're fucking their boss just because you spend all of your time together and he keeps giving you gifts and talking about you. Relateable, right?
> 
> Next week, probably a lot of anxiety.


	15. Chapter 15 -- Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn braves a concert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! Happy Pride month! I am exhausted today because going to Pride yesterday took a lot out of me, but I'm glad I got this week's chapter finished!
> 
> The comments on the last chapter were all so sweet! I'm glad you all enjoy the tension between these two disaster babies. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!
> 
> \-- Birdy

When I arrived to the venue the show had already started, but that was intentional. Everyone agreed that Copia would be a nervous mess before the show, so I would watch until intermission when I could meet with him. Until then, I would just hang backstage with my escort, Omega.

 

“You can sit here!” A stage hand with a headset mic gestured to a metal chair, shouting emphatically over the pounding sounds of guitar, bass, and drums. She then pointed at a door and said something else, but it was lost in the noise. I gave a slight nod, not wanting to ask her to repeat herself. It must have been obvious that I didn't understand her because the woman took a step forward to speak into my ear. I instinctually took a large step back. I felt my cheeks burn with shame as she looked confused and a little annoyed.

 

I’d been there less than 5 minutes and my condition was already causing problems.

 

The woman pointed to the door again and over-dramatically mouthed  _“dressing room!”'_ I nodded again, finally understanding. Her expression said plainly that she thought I was strange. She looked me over for another moment then went on about her duties.

 

From the chair, I could easily see Swiss and Mountain and I could occasionally see Cirrus and Cumulus from their platform at the back of the stage. Dewdrop, Aether, and Rain were harder to keep track of since they constantly moved in and out of my line of sight, but I could see their energy and personalities just in the way they were playing. The first time I had seen them perform I had thought they were energetic, but that was nothing compared to how they were in front of a live audience.

 

And then there was Copia.

 

I saw him the least often, since he spent most of his time in front of the proscenium, but the glimpses I got when he came back to the stage proper were fantastic. His stage persona was so different from the man I saw every day I couldn’t help but grin. He was mesmerizing to watch, commanding attention instead of hiding from it. There was still some of his personality in there in moments of awkwardness, but he turned everything up to 11.

 

My face hurt from how much I was smiling, watching everyone.  

 

Omega, seeing how relaxed I was, got my attention and made a gesture I read as _‘I’ll be right back’_. I nodded as he walked off and turned my attention back to the show.

 

Once I was alone, though, a bubble of anxiety started to build. Intermission would be soon and Copia would see I was there. Would he be upset? I tried to convince myself that the Ghouls were right, that he visited my room last night trying to ask me to come, but it was all speculation. We could all be wrong.

 

Even if he wanted me here, him seeing me could make him too nervous to perform during the second half of the show.

 

Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Maybe this was a mistake.

 

Copia started to exit the stage, coming toward my direction. What was he doing? The Ghouls were still playing, so this didn’t seem like intermission. I looked around and Omega was still gone. 

 

In a moment of blind panic, I leapt from my chair and hid myself in a dark corner.

 

When Copia got out of view of the audience, deep worry and anxiety etched itself on his face. He was scared, but he was hiding it well for the crowd. 

 

I held my breath as he got closer to me, hoping and praying he didn’t see me. I didn’t want to distract him in the middle of a set. Luckily, he turned away just shy of where I was hiding and went to meet some crew members who began to help him put on his red cassock over his suit.

 

It was only a few minutes before he finished the wardrobe change, but it felt like an eternity. I couldn’t breathe the entire time, my eyes trained on Copia to make sure he didn’t see me. Every worst-case scenario ran through my mind. Every way he could have yelled at me, every terrified look he could give. I was a trembling wreck by the time Copia had made his way back on stage.

 

I couldn’t do this.

 

Anxiety had warped my thoughts from _‘Copia might be a little upset I’m here’_ to _‘Copia will be absolutely furious that I went behind his back and didn’t ask him if it was all right to come and he will hate me for this.’_ The anxiety buzzing in my brain also made everything feel like it was too much. Too much noise, too many people in the building, too enclosed. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to leave. But part of me didn’t want to go without telling Copia I liked his performance.

 

I found the stage hand from earlier and tried to get her attention. She couldn’t hear me over the music. I tried waving to her, but she wasn’t facing my direction. As a last ditch effort, I reached out to touch her, but I was in too bad of a mental state to actually do it. So I just stood, thumbs twiddling awkwardly, until she turned around.

 

I could see I scared the hell out of her and I didn’t blame her. Turning and seeing someone trembling and staring at you wasn’t the most comforting sight. I mouthed _'I'm_ _sorry'_   before gesturing like I was writing.

 

_'Pen? Paper?'_ I mouthed. The woman gave a slow nod and handed me a sheet of paper from her clipboard along with a pen. The paper had a copy of the set list on the back, but that would be fine.

 

I entered the dressing room to get better lighting to write a quick note. It seemed like Copia and I were communicating primarily through notes nowadays, but it was the most convenient way to speak to him when I felt like I couldn't talk to him face-to-face.

 

_Copia,_

 

_I was able to see some of the show tonight. I’m sorry if my coming here upsets you, but I wanted to see you perform._

 

_I had to leave before I could tell you in person, but I wanted to let you know that I thought you were amazing. You and the Ghouls put a lot of hard work into this and I’m proud of all of you._

 

_I hope the rest of the tour goes well._

 

_See you when you get back,_

 

_Evelyn_

 

I scanned over the note at least a dozen times. My handwriting looked like absolute shit compared to his. Then again, everyone’s handwriting looked like a mess compared to Copia’s. But had I used the right words? Was this what I wanted to say? It was written in pen and I wasn't going to ask for more paper, so there wasn’t any going back.

 

I heard the door to the green room open and I let out a yelp, instinctually looking for a place to hide.

 

“What’s wrong?” Much to my relief Cumulus, Cirrus, and Mountain stood in the doorway.

 

“Oh, thank God, you’re not Copia.” I held my hand over my hammering heart, trying to calm it. “Wait, is it intermission?” I tensed, terrified that Copia could walk through the door any minute.

 

“No, they’re doing an acoustic bit so we’re off stage for a little while.” Cirrus explained. “Why are you so scared?” 

 

“I can’t do this.” Admitting that I was giving up made my throat feel tight.

 

“Oh, sweetie, did something happen?” Cumulus trotted across the room towards me. “Can I give you a hug?” I nodded.

 

The second that Cumulus’ arms were around me, I was in tears. What was it about someone hugging you that instantly made you cry?

 

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled into her shoulder. I felt like I was disappointing everyone.

 

“It’s okay.” she ran one hand up and down my back. “But what’s got you so upset?”

 

“I just... It’s too much.” I stepped away from the shorter ghoul and wiped my eyes. “I don’t think I can see him right now.” The three ghouls glanced at each other, not sure what to say. Mountain saw the note I had written sitting on a table and picked it up, eyes scanning over it quickly.

 

“You think he will be mad at you?” He asked carefully.

 

“I don’t know for sure...” I admitted. “I just don’t want to take the risk. I couldn’t handle him being upset at me right now.” He slowly nodded before looking back at the note, studying it. Cirrus and Cumulus were looking at each other in silence. I sometimes wondered if they could read each other's minds. 

 

“Do you know where Omega is?” I asked. “I want to go home and, well, he’s my ride.” The ghouls shrugged.

 

“I figured he would be with you or out in the car.” Cumulus admitted. Mountain and Cirrus nodded in agreement

 

“He didn’t seem interested in the show at all.” Cirrus said. “So he’s probably just waiting for it to be over.”

 

“Okay... I’ll go find him then. Make sure Copia gets that note, please.” I said my goodbyes and made my way out of the green room and exited through the stage door.

 

Omega drove us in the same car I rode in with Copia when he asked me to help him buy supplies for the strays. That pet store trip felt like a lifetime ago, so it was weird to see the car again.

 

“So is this like a company car, or...?” I had asked Omega on our drive down. He just shrugged. He was not one for conversation. The ride would have been entirely silent if not for the radio.

 

He had parked the car behind the venue, close to the buses, so we could enter through the back. Luckily there was no one in the parking lot. I didn't want to be seen by anyone  out of sheer embarrassment. I just wanted to get in the car and go home.

 

As I approached the car, though, there was no Omega to be seen. I tested the door to see if I could at least sit in the car and wait for him, but all the doors were locked. I didn’t want to go back inside and risk being seen by Copia, especially after I had left that note. It would have been awkward. I was stuck where I was until Omega came back. I hoped that Cirrus, Cumulus, or Mountain would tell him I was looking for him so he would come find me.

 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Since Jaime was paying for my phone plan, I had purposefully chosen the cheapest one I could have: only service for phone calls and texts, no cellular data. I was wondering if I could hook up to the venue’s Wi-Fi and find something to entertain myself, but I couldn’t connect to anything. I groaned and put it back in my pocket.

 

I could hear the bassier parts of the music, even outside of the venue. With nothing else to do, I sat down on the asphalt, back against the wall, and listened to the thrumming vibrations until they faded away. It must have been the intermission. Well, there was no way I could go back in there now. Copia would see me for sure. So I just sat on the ground in silence for a while, my mind’s favorite question swimming in my head: 

 

_Why am I like this?_

 

A few minutes after the music had faded away, I heard the stage door open. I stood and turned to see if it was Omega. To my absolute horror, it was not.

 

Dressed in a white suit and staring wide-eyed at me was Copia.

 

“I- uh-” My mind went into an immediate panic mode.

 

“You really came.” His voice was soft. “I thought the Ghouls were playing a prank or something.”

 

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry. I know you said that you didn’t me to see you perform because it would make you nervous, but the Ghouls told me you wanted me here, so I just went along with it. But then, when I got here, I felt like I had gone behind your back and that you’d be mad or nervous and I would ruin everything, so I wanted to leave but now I don’t know where Omega is so I’m just stuck here.” The words fell out of my mouth in a long, unending breath, during which Copia started to approach me.

 

“I-I’m rambling sorry.” I stammered as he got closer, leaning myself entirely up against the car until he stopped a few feet in front of me. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

 

“Are you mad?” I rasped, afraid of the answer.

 

“Did you like the show? What you saw of it, anyway?” His voice was neutral, which somehow unnerved me more than if he had just yelled.

 

“Y-Yeah, like I said in the note--”

 

Copia cut me off by closing the gap between us and pulling me into his arms.

 

“I’m glad.” he murmured as he buried his face into my hair. I was tense, startled by the sudden contact.   
  


“Oh... Oh, I am so sorry.” The confident front man I saw on stage was back to the anxious Copia I knew as he quickly let go on me and took a few steps back. “I-I should have asked.” I blinked at him, bewildered. 

 

“But you didn’t hate it?” He confirmed. I nodded stiffly, trying to recover from the unexpected embrace.  I didn’t feel panicked, I felt very surprised and my face felt hot. It was a different reaction than I would normally have and I wasn’t sure how to process it.

 

“Then... why were you leaving?” Copia cautiously asked, awkwardly straightening out his suit jacket.

 

“Uh...” I blinked a few times, pulling myself out of my introspection. “I just got worried that you would get mad because you insisted that you didn’t want me to see you perform.”

 

“Well... You see... That is...” Copia looked down at the ground and played with a rock under his shoe. “I wanted you here.” I felt instant relief when he said it. “Last night I was trying to pluck up the courage to ask you myself, but I just couldn’t do it. I was too afraid.” He was an even brighter shade of red now and sounded embarrassed.

 

“Well, hey, I’m here now.” I shrugged, and he looked up at me and nodded. 

 

“Everything okay?” I asked him, noticing he was shuffling awkwardly.

 

“Uh, yes.” It was just like when he came to my door last night. He was full of things he wanted to say, but felt unable to say them. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally got the words out.

 

“W-would you... Would you mind staying?” When I didn’t answer right away, he backpedaled. “You don’t have to! I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I just...” He chewed on his lip, deciding whether or not to continue.

 

“I would like to say goodbye to you properly, but I have to get ready.” He explained. “You don't have to watch the rest of the show if you don’t want.” He offered.

 

“Uh... Yeah... I can stay.” I was more surprised at his request than anything. He wanted to say goodbye in a way he couldn’t do in the few minutes between sets? It seemed strange to me, but now I knew he wasn’t upset I had no problems staying.

 

Copia walked me back inside. He asked me where I had been watching from and I pointed out the chair off stage left, easily visible with the stage lights on for the intermission. He nodded and then excused himself to go change. I stood around awkwardly, unsure of what to do, until I saw the Ghouls, including Omega, chatting outside the door to the dressing room.

 

“Where have you been?” I asked Omega as I approached them.

 

“I went to watch the show from the audience, talk to the lights guy.” He explained. “I came back, and you were gone. But everyone told me to stay here because Copia needed to talk to you.” No one would meet my eyes. They had been keeping Omega distracted? They always seemed to be up to something.

 

“Would have been a shame if you left without seeing Copia white suit.” Swiss tried to cut the tension. “I think it really _suits him_ , eh?”

 

Everyone collectively groaned at the pain the pun caused and Swiss laughed.

 

“But for real, it looks nice, yeah?” He directed his question to me and I felt everyone’s eyes on me, waiting for an answer.

 

“I-I didn’t really notice.” I felt my ears get hot and a few of the Ghouls chuckled. Why did they always try to get me to say embarrassing things concerning Copia?

 

We talked for a while longer before the Ghouls had to get back to their places and continue the show.

 

I watched the rest of the concert from my chair, now able to just enjoy it instead of worrying about being seen. Every so often, Copia would be in my line of sight and I would see his eyes flicker to me to see if I was still there. I would give him a little wave each time. I couldn’t be sure, but a few times I could have sworn he smiled at me.

 

Once the show ended, and the band did their encore, I wasn’t sure what to do. Copia had exited on the opposite side of the stage and there was suddenly a lot of activity around me as the crew worked on dismantling the set and storing equipment. I felt anxious all over again. I felt like I was in the way. Copia said he wanted to say goodbye, but I didn’t know where he was. I couldn’t find Omega again either, so I just stood up against a wall and hoped I wasn’t bothering anyone.

 

I finally caught sight of Copia through a busy crowd of crew members. He finished giving directions to a someone before he saw me. Awkwardly bobbing and weaving through the hustling crowd of people, he made his way over.

 

“Can I walk you out?” He asked, noticing how uncomfortable I looked. I nodded, and he offered me his arm so I wouldn’t get separated from him. I clung to him as we made our way back to the car.

 

“Was the rest of the show all right?” He asked when we were finally outside and walking towards the car.

 

“Yes, it was great.” Copia let out a sigh of relief. Omega was sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for me, and Copia gave him a small, anxious wave.

 

“When we get back,” He started. “It will be right around All Hallows Eve. It’s a big time for the church and there will be a rather large event the day after we return.” He explained. “I wanted to let you know so you could... uh... prepare.” We had walked to the passenger side door of the car and I leaned against it to face him.

 

“I’m sure Papa will find something for me to wear.” I shrugged. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he already had something picked out.

 

“I meant prepare mentally... It’s nothing big, but it will be crowded.” My anxiety spiked. “It is a fun time, though.” Copia tried to cover when he saw my worried expression. “Food and drinks, mostly. Some dancing.” I still felt apprehensive, so I just gave a shrug.

 

“I was just...” He was turning red again. “I was hoping to spend some time with you there. Just for a while.” He was red as a beet and looked at me expectantly.

 

“Uh... Uh, yeah, I can manage that.” I nodded and Copia looked relieved. I wasn’t sure how well I would do with a partying crowd, but having food and drinks with Copia after he had been gone for so long would be nice. “I’ll save you a dance, I guess.” I joked, and he smiled.

 

“I hope you will.” He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles. I flushed the same shade of red he was and looked away from him.

 

There was a beat of silence where neither of us wanted to say goodbye. Copia placed his hand under my chin and gently turn my face to him. My heart stopped entirely when he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. What this also an Italian thing? I would have to ask Papa later.

 

“See you soon, _Topolino_.” He murmured into my skin before he took a step back and opened the car door for me. I was so dazed that I had almost entirely missed what he said. It felt like all the heat in my body had moved to my face. My cheeks were throbbing.  

 

“S-See you soon, Copia.” I squeaked out before he closed the door behind me, tapping the roof of the car as a signal for Omega to drive. 

 

I sunk into the passenger seat, hands covering my boiling face, trying to figure out why he had done that. I sighed and caught a glimpse of the rear view mirror. Copia was watching after us. I turned around to look at him, but he had already turned away and was heading back inside. 

 

I missed him already. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing would ever get done between these two if the Ghouls weren't there. 
> 
> Next week: Evelyn, an oblivious idiot, realizes Copia asked her on a date.


	16. Chapter 16 -- Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn's alone and that gives her a lot of time to think about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 3 AM and I can't sleep, so a bit of an early chapter! It's technically Sunday, after all. 
> 
> Hope you are having a great week/weekend and thank you as always for your comments!  
> \-- Birdy

In the days following the start of the tour, I felt restless. Without having Copia or the Ghouls around, I had nothing to do. I didn’t feel comfortable trying to make new friends in the church. I sure as hell wasn’t about to go out in public and make some, either, so I spent most of my time around the strays and Copia’s rats.

 

Even though holding and petting animals had always relaxed me, it surprised me how much I missed my therapy sessions. I wanted to lean against Mountain, have Cumulus play with my hair, hell I would even welcome one of Aether’s lessons where he scared the shit out of me.

 

And then there was Copia.

 

I couldn’t stop thinking about how he had acted when we parted ways. I had asked Papa if kissing someone on the forehead was an Italian thing and he laughed at me. When I asked him what was so funny, he just gave me one of his flashy smiles and walked away, saying he was busy.

 

So it more than a formality? But that opened up so many other questions I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask. Questions about Copia motives and why I was so obsessed with what had happened. Instead of addressing them, I did what I did best and ignored them.

 

I did everything under the sun to try to not think about Copia and blatantly ignored questions floating around in my head. I read every book that held my interest, binge watched show after show, hugged literally every cat I could find. But, even though I tried to keep myself busy, the thoughts would creep in.

 

_That wasn’t an actual kiss, so why am I so caught up on it?_ Not thinking about it.

 

_Did he take my joke about saving a dance for him seriously? I don’t know how to dance._ Doesn’t matter, not thinking about it.

 

When every tactic stopped working, I thought getting out of the church for a minute would help me take my mind of church-related things. Not knowing where else to go,  I walked across the street and back to my house.

 

The small, one level home stood silent and cold, almost the same as it was when I left it. Someone had patched the damaged window over with a piece of wood, a dingy bandaid over an open sore. I hadn’t cared enough to get it repaired. It didn’t matter since I wasn’t living there.

 

I put my keys into the lock and entered my front room. The air was stagnant and thick inside. Most everything had been gutted and taken over to the church, which left only the big furnishings.

 

My footsteps echoed on the hard flooring as I walked a lap around the living room. A thin layer of dust had found its way onto every exposed surface. It was like I had never lived here. It felt abandoned. I guess it was. But it wasn’t like I was expecting some warm, inviting home. I knew it was a wreck even before I left. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing to look at. I remembered how much shame I felt when Copia was there.

 

Copia.

 

“Oh, goddamnit!” I shouted to the empty room, flopping down onto the lumpy couch. “What the fuck is my problem?” A puff of dust exploded around me and I hacked it up as soon as it entered my lungs.

 

Suddenly, a knock at the door.

 

Three fast raps, strong and authoritative.

 

I choked back my remaining coughs, my lungs burning and spasming from the effort. I wanted no one to know I was there. Patrick knew where I lived, so he could easily send someone to check and see if I had come back. I just had to be quiet and they would do away.

 

“I heard you, Miss Alliston.” An assertive female voice cut through the musty air. Well, too late, I guess. The floor creaked and echoed around me again as I pattered over to the door. Cautiously, I opened it a crack and peered out.

 

A woman with dark eyes and equally dark thick hair was standing on the doorstep. She wore well-tailored pants and a smart jacket and carried a briefcase under her arm. Everything about her said she was powerful.

 

“Y-yes?” I squeaked, intimidated.

 

“Evelyn Mae Alliston?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt like a child being scolded.

 

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Maricela York, state prosecutor. I’m handling your case against Patrick Cole. May I come in?”

 

I nodded, which she wouldn’t have been able to see, and opened the door fully to her.

 

As she stepped over the threshold and into the living room, I felt the same shame I felt when Copia saw the meager way I was living. Maricela took calculated steps around the room, examining everything. I couldn’t read her expression.

 

“Are you all right, Miss Alliston?” The prosecutor, realizing I had said nothing, turned and saw me shaking like a leaf.

 

“Yeah, fine.” I rasped, wanting to turn invisible to hide from her powerful gaze.

 

“I just wanted to clarify some things about your time with Mr. Cole.”

 

I did not want to talk to this scary woman about the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I must have looked as panicked as I felt, because her steely gaze softened.

 

“I won’t take up much of your time.” She assured me. “Just sit for a moment and answer a few questions.” She gestured to the dusty table and chairs in the kitchen. I nodded, dusting off both chairs before sitting down opposite her.

 

“I take it you haven’t been staying here?” She asked, examining the dust on the table. I shook my head.

 

“Something happened...” I pointed meekly at the boarded-up window.

 

“Yes, I saw the report. The item thrown through the window had a note on it, yes?” She pulled a file of loose papers from her briefcase and opened it up. She also fished out a pen and looked to me, prepared to take notes.

 

“Y-Yes.” I nodded. “It said that he had found me and he signed it with his name.” Maricela nodded and scribbled something quickly, then turned a few pages over and scribbled a note there.

 

“And since then, where have you been staying?”

 

“The church across the street are letting me stay there... t-temporarily, of course..” I didn’t think I needed to say anything more than that. She didn’t need to know what kind of church it was or the inhabitants. I couldn’t see that being important to my case.

 

“Ah, yes, the property damage report has a statement from a Sister Imperator. Is she the one who is housing you?”

 

“Yes?” I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Was it Papa since he ordered I stay? It didn’t seem important, though, as Maricela just nodded and moved on.

 

“Now, I’d just like to clarify some details of your case.”

 

The next hour was painful. She picked apart every piece of my statement I had made to police when I was in the hospital. She wanted dates I could only barely remember, and details of the abuse I didn’t want to talk about. She wanted to understand every minute detail, and it felt like ripping open old wounds.

 

I could see she was sympathetic to my suffering, her eyes showing a growing sadness as the interview continued. However, I could also tell that she had spent a lot of time hearing stories like mine. This was her job and, as much as it was inconvenient and uncomfortable to ask me these questions, she had to ask them.

 

“I thank you for your time, Miss Alliston.” It surprised me when she closed the file, placed it back in her briefcase, and stood. It felt like I would be trapped talking to her forever.

 

“Uh... Yeah.” I stood, and she held out her hand for me to shake, like we had just finished a business deal. I visibly flinched, and she quirked an eyebrow. Placing her briefcase back on the table, she popped it back open and opened the file again.

 

“So you are still suffering from the... the uh...”

 

“Haphephobia, yes.” Maricela pulled out a paper that looked like a copy of my medical records and scanned over it.

 

“Is it still as severe as it was when you were in the hospital?” I shook my head. “Have you been seeking treatment? Therapy, a psychiatrist?”

 

“The church... they have, uhm.... Support groups. It’s helped.” That was the best way I could describe how the Ghouls, Papa, and Copia had been helping me.

 

And there was Copia, back in my mind again.

 

I wished he was close by. I wanted support.

 

“Well, I’m glad you are getting some assistance.” A quick scribble on the chart and she closed the file and snapped her briefcase shut with an air of finality.

 

“I know that speaking about this situation can be difficult.” She weighed her words carefully. “If it is any consolation, I feel like this case is fairly open and shut and I intend to make sure they punish Mr. Cole to the fullest extent of the law.”

 

“Thank you...” The thought of Patrick being behind bars was comforting, but I knew that was a long way off. 

 

“Do you know when we’ll be doing the... uhm... the trial stuff?” I had researched abuse and attempted murder cases and the trial terrified me. I knew that Patrick would have to be in the same room as me and that I would have to give testimony while he watched. I wanted as much time as I could to emotionally prepare for that.

 

“It’s looking like the beginning of November, maybe the middle of that month.”

 

My first thought was that Copia would be back by then. I wanted to slap myself.

 

“C-can someone come with me... t-to the trial?” I felt my face heat up. Why was I blushing? Feeling embarrassed, I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, pulling at a loose thread there.

 

“Of course.” The prosecutor’s neutral, authoritative tone cracked for a minute and I heard compassion. It was subtle, but the sadness I saw in her eyes had spread out to her face. “I want to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible, considering the circumstances.” With that she picked up her suitcase, gave me a nod, and left.

 

As soon as I felt like Maricela was gone, I hastily left the house. After slamming the door and locking it, I sprinted across the street towards the safety of the church.

 

I ran all the way through the abbey, feet pounding against the stone, to Copia’s room. He had given me a key so I could feed the rats. I fished it out of my pocket, struggling to get it in the lock with my trembling hands. Once I heard the lock click open, I threw open the door and quickly closed and locked it behind me.

 

I leaned against the door, my forehead touching the wood. My chest heaving was from the exertion and my lungs were screaming. I was panting out hot and heavy breaths. It was amazing how far and fast I could run when I was panicking.

 

Slowly, my breathing descended from heaving to short gasps. My chest trembled with every exhale and my eyes started to water. All at once, I was crying. Hot, fat tears dripped from my eyes and on to my shoes. Each breath shook my body, and I felt weak in the knees. I needed to get off my feet.

 

Whenever I had crying fits like this, my default position was on my bed, clutching a pillow to my chest. So, robotically, my body went on auto-pilot to carry out my routine. But, as a familiar scent filled my nose, I realized that I was an idiot.

 

This wasn’t my room.

 

I was in someone else’s bed. That someone wasn’t here, and I was smelling that person’s pillow.

 

This was really fucking creepy.

 

But I burrowed my face into Copia’s pillow as I continued to cry.

 

The violating feeling of having to methodically break down every minute of my abuse ate away at me and I sobbed my guts out. I wanted to disappear. I wanted this to be over.

 

But it wouldn’t be for a while, would it? I would have to see Patrick, in person, in just a few months. The thought made my stomach twist into painful knots. How could I face him?

 

I could just imagine how he would feel seeing what a mess I am. He’d think I got what I deserved for leaving him, for inconveniencing him, for making him hurt me.

 

I could practically see the satisfied look on his face.

 

I cried harder.

 

I had curled myself up into a ball, Copia’s pillow crushed in my arms and against my face as I scream-cried into it. The smell of Copia, of incense and lavender, hit me and I felt myself relax. I remembered the first time I had hugged him, the night I came to stay at the church, and how tightly he held me as I sobbed.

 

I wanted a hug.

 

I wanted _that_ hug, specifically.

 

I gripped the pillow even tighter, knuckles white with a desperation to feel safe.

 

My tears had stopped and my breathing and heart rate returned to normal. I was feeling the calm and clarity that came after an intense cry which made me really look at what I was doing.

 

I let go of Copia’s pillow like it was scalding hot and sat bolt upright on the bed.

 

What the hell was I doing?

 

Why did I even come to Copia’s room?

 

This was some high school rom-com bullshit, and I needed to stop it. I couldn’t be acting like this.

 

I rose off Copia’s bed and smoothed out the sheets and returned the pillow to where it belonged. What Copia didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Lord knows I would say nothing. I would do my best to forget this ever happened and never think about it again.

 

As I went to leave Copia’s room and wash my hands of my embarrassing sob fest, the rats let out a chorus of squeaks. They probably thought I was there to feed them. They had a Pavlovian response to me now. Sad, tired, messy-haired girl equals food time. It would have been an early lunch for them, but I can only imagine how much my keening had distressed them. They deserved food after being forced to listen to that.

 

I opened the cages and placed their food, specially calculated and made by Copia, into their bowls.

 

“This is all just gonna be our little secret, right?”  I watched the rodents happily grab at the food and munch on it. A few turned to look at me when they heard my voice, but they just blinked and twitched their whiskers.

 

I threw a few extra treats in their bowls as a bribe before heading back to my room. I wanted to curl up in my own bed, hug my cat, and forget the last few hours.

 

I had taken only three steps into my room when I heard something crinkle under my foot. Looking down, I saw an envelope on the floor. Someone must have slipped it under my door. On the front was my name written in a clean, classic script.

 

I couldn’t avoid Copia for a minute, could I? It was getting annoying, really.

 

What was even more annoying was how excited I was to see it. I took a beat, reminded myself to stop acting like an idiot, and picked up the letter.

 

_Topolino,_

 

_The tour has been going well, but it is exhausting. I am already counting the days until I can come home. Not that I wasn’t already._

 

_I apologize for the brevity of this letter. There is much to do and I have little time to myself. You do not have to respond, but if you wish to write me back, give your letter to Alpha or Omega. They will get it to me._

 

_Until then, I hope you are well._

 

_Thinking of you,_

_C_

 

I felt my face grow hot.

 

_‘Thinking of you.’_

 

“No.” I chastised myself and threw the letter on my desk. “Not doing this, Evelyn. Stop being dumb.” Tibby mewed and rubbed against my legs and I scooped him up into my arms.

 

“This is dumb, right?” I held the cat close to my chest before flopping on to my bed and holding the kitten over my head. His legs dangled in the air as I held him by the belly and he stared down at me.

 

“It’s just us being close friends, yeah?” I asked to the cat above me. “I mean, we’re similar. We’re both anxious messes. He hasn’t had a friend in a while, and I haven’t had one either. Not to mention he was the first person I voluntarily touched post Patrick, so there has to be just some extra emotions there, right? I’m just blowing things out of proportion.” I was babbling and rationalizing like it was my job.

 

“And there might be a language barrier.” Tibby wasn’t squirming. He blinked as he looked down at me, just letting me vent to him. “Italian is kind of like English, but not. The phrase for ‘thinking of you’ in Italian is probably something super casual. It just sounds more important when you translate it in to English. That makes sense, right?”

 

Tibby stared blankly at me, licked his nose, and yawned.

 

“I’m glad we agree.”

 

I sat up, letting Tibby loose onto my bed, and stared at the letter on my desk. Copia said I didn’t have to reply to him, so I probably wouldn’t. I don’t know what I would say.

 

A thought crossed my mind of Copia, nervous and stressed, waiting for some kind of response.

 

“Goddamnit.” I groaned, standing up from my bed and rifling through my desk drawers for a pen and paper. When I found them, I sat down in the chair with a huff and picked up the pen to write.

 

I stared at the blank page for what felt like an hour. What do I even write? How do I even start?

 

_Dear Copia._

 

No, too formal.

 

_Hey._

 

Too casual.

 

_Copia._

 

Sure.

 

_Thank you for the letter._

 

No, scratch that. That sounds like a kid being forced to write a thank-you letter for her grandmother.

 

_I was happy to hear from you and I am glad that the tour is going well. I hope you are remembering to take care of yourself._

 

That seemed acceptable. I carried on. Maybe cut the first part?

 

_It’s been calm here since you left. It was a rough day today, but I will manage._

 

No, absolutely not. That would just make him worry.

 

_It has been calm here since you left. Nothing of note has happened._

 

_I miss you._

 

Revise that.

 

_I miss all of you and can’t wait for you all to come home._

 

Was that too heavy-handed? I imagined one of the Ghouls getting ahold of the letter and realizing that phrasing was for the best.

 

I signed it and read over the final letter.

 

 

_Copia,_

 

_I am glad that the tour is going well. I hope you are remembering to take care of yourself._

 

_It’s been calm since you left. Nothing is really going on here. I’ve just been tending to the rats and they are doing fine._

 

_I miss all of you and can’t wait for you all to come home._

 

_Sincerely,_

_Evelyn_

 

I sighed and looked at all the crumpled pieces of paper littering my desk and the surrounding floor. All of that effort for such a weak reply. I guess it was better than nothing.

 

I had just sealed the envelope and written Copia’s name on the front when there was a knock on my door. I hastily shoved the letter into a drawer and opened the door to see Papa leaning nonchalantly on the door frame.

 

_“Gattina!”_ His tone was overly enthusiastic. He was up to something.

 

“Can I help you, Papa?” I asked wearily.

 

“Am I interrupting?” There was something in his eyes that spelled trouble. When Papa got some wild hair of an idea, there was no stopping him.

 

“What is all that? Writing something?” He glanced over my shoulder to the balls of crumpled paper scattered over my desk.

 

“Drawing-! Just drawing something.” I said hastily and Papa raised an eyebrow. “But it can wait.”

 

“Good, good.” He nodded, his usual charming smile widening to a sly grin. “We need to talk about your date.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn talking to animals like they're people is the biggest mood.
> 
> Also I almost cried in the break room at work because I realized Love Like You from Steven Universe fits Evelyn so well??? I'm a big emotional baby. 
> 
> Next week: Dating advice from Papa. It'll be like The Pickup Artist, except way less creepy and more Satanic.


	17. Chapter 17 -- Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa tries to get Evelyn to listen to him and Copia comes home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back at it! Thank you all so much for your patience while I took a break. I hope this chapter was worth the wait!
> 
> \-- Birdy

“Wha-?” I staggered back from the door frame, my face growing warm. “I... Date? What do you mean?” 

 

Papa strolled into my room, a wicked grin on his face. 

 

“He asked you to spend time with him, yes?” I refused to answer. “It’s a date.” He assured me, striding across the room and sitting gracefully in the chair at my desk. Before I could stop him, he picked up one of the crumpled pieces of paper. 

 

“These drawings look a lot like words, _gattina_.” He teased. He glimpsed Copia’s letter, still on my desk. I lunged to grab it but he swiftly snatched it away and stood, darting out of my reach. His eyes scanned the letter before his sly smirk returned. 

 

“ _Gattina_...” He sighed. “After this, you still think it is not a date?” He chuckled, and I scowled at him. “‘ _Thinking of you_ ’, he says. It’s so obvious.” He was making fun of me and it made my blood boil. 

 

“You don’t know that!” I snapped and Papa looked shocked. Embarrassed, I looked down at my feet. 

 

“Do you not want it to be a date?” He asked. 

 

“I... No, I...” I sighed. My heart hurt and I was sure I would have been crying if I hadn’t sobbed my guts out in Copia’s room. “Papa, I’ve had a rough day. I don’t want to talk about this.” 

 

“But what are you going to do?” He asked, dissatisfied with how I was reacting.

 

“I’m not doing anything because it’s Not. A. Date.” I emphasized before passing behind Papa and leaning on the edge of my bed. “Now, please-”

 

“I do not understand....” Papa turned to look at me, brow furrowed. “You love him, yes?”

 

“Woah, woah, woah,” My eyes widened and my heart started to thump against my ribs as I went into panic mode. “Don’t go throwing that around so casually, Papa.”

 

“But you do?” He pressed, and I felt flustered. Was the collar of my shirt always this tight? I couldn’t look at him. 

 

“Papa, you know my past with... love.” I was hesitant to even say the word. “I can’t...” I trailed off, sighing. 

 

“Can’t?” He seemed genuinely confused. I had been around Papa enough to know he understood everything about romance. He was a master. My attitude was confusing to him. 

 

“Can not is not the same as do not.” He pointed out. 

 

“Can’t, don’t, whatever.” I huffed. “Take your pick.” 

 

“Why?” It was my turn to look confused. I squinted at Papa, trying to understand what he meant. 

 

“It upsets you when he avoids you, you spend all this time together, and you take one of my ghouls for a day to go see him. This sounds like love to me.” 

 

“I...” I sigh putting my head in my hands. “It doesn’t matter.” I grumble. I heard Papa pull the desk chair over so he could sit across from me. 

 

“I think this matters a lot, _gattina_.” He seemed concerned but there was another tone to his voice, like he was picking apart a puzzle. “He loves you. If you do not feel the same, you must tell him.” 

 

“He does _not_ love me, Papa.” I scoffed, sitting up to look at him and frowning. 

 

“He tries very hard to get you to like him.” He pointed out, and I rolled my eyes. “Gifts, letters; are you the only one not seeing?” 

 

“You sound like Cirrus and Cumulus.” I groaned. “Copia is old-fashioned. He hasn’t had a friend in a long time and we’re very similar. He’s... He’s sorry for me.” Thinking Copia was being so kind to me out of pity hurt and vocalizing it stung even more. 

 

“No,” Papa pushed back. “If he feels sorry, he might help with the therapy. And that is a big maybe.” He was leaning forward in the chair, hands gesturing to make me understand. “If he feels sorry, he would not care so much what you think.” 

 

“Maybe he cares about what I think because he considers me a friend?” I posited. Papa leaned forward and put his head in his hands and let out an exasperated sigh. 

 

“Why are you not accepting this?” He sounded frustrated. “Everyone sees this but you.” He paused, having some realization, before leaning closer to me. “Are you resisting?” 

 

“Resisting?” I scoffed again. “Papa, you’ve got it wrong. I...” My voice trailed off, my train of thought dying. How did I feel? Was I resisting? Resisting what? It was all so complicated and messy. 

 

“Papa, I can’t do this right now.” I stood off the bed and went into my kitchen, trying to look busy. 

 

“Do you love him, yes or no?” Papa stood and leaned against the side of the chair, folding his arms. “Answer me, and I go.” 

 

“Papa, I-“ I turned to look at him and his challenging stare made the words dry up in my mouth. I stammered, scrambling for something to say. 

 

“He’s old enough to be my grandfather.” I scoffed. 

 

“That is not yes or no.” He seemed genuinely annoyed. “He is old enough to be anyone’s grandfather.” A playful smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Or great-grandfather, or great-great-grandfather, or great-great-great--” 

 

“Papa.” I snapped, throwing his annoyed tone back at him. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel that way.” I was giving him every excuse I had given myself. “He’s just... nice.” 

 

“No, no.” Papa scowled. “I have known the Cardinal my whole life. He is not nice.” My face scrunched up in confusion. Copia had been nothing but kind the entire time I had known him. 

 

“For decades he talks to no one, sees no one. Not if he can help it. But you come and-” Papa made an exploding motion with his hands. “Suddenly, he talks. He leaves his office. I saw him smile once. Not the Cardinal I have known.” 

 

“B-but...” I softly stammer. “He can’t.” 

 

“Again with can’t?” Confusion returned to Papa’s face. I sighed, pressing my palms against the kitchen counter. 

 

“You understand how impossible it is for me to have a relationship, right?” I was out of excuses and painful feelings were bubbling up. “It’s not fair to him, Papa.” My fingers curled against the smooth countertop. 

 

“Ah...” His expression softened. His lips pursed and he looked down for a moment. “But you are still not saying you do not love the Cardinal, so--”

 

“I don’t know, Papa.” I snapped at him. “Maybe I do. But I also might just be clinging on to the first person who is showing me any kind of affection. My perception of what love is was fucked up when the last person I loved tried to kill me.” I felt a dull ache in my chest burning into my heart. I didn’t want to confront these feelings. My anger was being pushed onto Papa for making me think about them.

 

“So you do--”

 

“That isn’t the point!” I smacked my hands on the counter and Papa jumped. There was a thick silence between us. Papa was unsure of what to say and I didn’t want to keep talking. 

 

“Papa.” 

 

Both Papa and I shot a glare to the doorway to see Alpha standing there, undeterred by our gaze. 

 

“Your meeting started ten minutes ago.” The ghoul said matter-of-factly. “Sister Imperator sent me to find you.” 

 

“Very well...” Papa shrugged. “I will be right there.” Alpha nodded, heading off down the corridor. Papa waited until he was sure Alpha was out of earshot before speaking again.

 

“ _Gattina_...” Papa took a few steps closer to me, his eyes sad. “You are fighting yourself.” His lips pursed again, and he paused to find the right words. “Whether you are scared to be hurt or scared to be happy, I do not know.” I opened my mouth to retort, but he put up a finger to silence me. “We will talk more later.” He assured. “Just think on this, _gattina_.” He urged. “Denying your feelings will hurt you more than it will protect you.” Papa turned on his heel and left, closing the door behind him.

 

I had a few weeks to think on what Papa said because I didn’t see him for a long time after that. He seemed to be busy preparing for the Halloween event. I could never see him taking anything seriously, so this party must have been important to force Papa to devote so much attention to it. Then again, Papa seemed like the type of person who went all out when he threw a party. 

 

Since Papa was the only person I talked to who was still in the abbey, I had no choice but to ruminate on our argument. I would catch myself analyzing my feelings every time my mind was unoccupied. 

 

What if Copia felt that way about me? What if I felt that way about him? What would that mean? Could anything even come of it? I was so emotionally stunted from my past. Could I ever get over that? I seemed unlikely. He deserved better than that, regardless of my own feelings.

 

After a few days, I concluded that I should keep Copia at arm’s length when he gets back to be sure he didn’t get hurt. Or maybe it was so I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Either way, I felt like I couldn’t be close to him without one of us getting hurt. 

 

Even though I told myself over and over to keep my distance, I still felt a girlish excitement every time Alpha or Omega gave me a new letter from Copia. 

 

Ever since I sent a reply, Copia sent along a letter every other day without fail, even if I didn’t reply right away. They were never anything too important; saying how the previous night’s show or their day on the road was. Sometimes he would include things that the Ghouls had done or something they wanted passed along to me. And he signed every single one _‘thinking of you’_. After every new letter, I would take a step back and remind myself: 

 

Don’t get your hopes up, 

 

Don’t get _his_ hopes up. 

 

I would send replies whenever there was something to write about, updating him about the rats or letting him know how I was doing. I was a little more depressed without being able to speak to everyone in person. I couldn’t wait to have face-to-face conversations with them again. But I never said that in the letters. As far as Copia knew, I was fine and handling everything well. 

 

As the tour was coming to a close, I noticed that the Sisters had begun chittering about Copia and the Ghouls. To my surprise, many of them had smartphones and spent a lot of their day sharing photos and videos from the tour. Many were swooning over the Ghouls, but even more were fawning over Copia. 

 

“Oh, did you see this video of the Cardinal from last night?” 

 

“Look at this picture! Thank the Dark Lord for his thighs, right?!” 

 

“I thought he was so shy, but look at how he is on stage. It’s so hot!” 

 

It made me uncomfortable. It felt strange to have so many girls talking about someone I knew that way.  It almost made me angry. None of them would have looked at him twice if he wasn’t fronting the band. 

 

_“Gattina!”_ Papa found me early on the day that Copia and the Ghouls were scheduled to return. “Are you all right?” I had been trying to read on a bench, but I kept getting distracted by a giggling pair of Sisters babbling on about how they would get Copia’s attention at the party the following evening. I hadn’t even noticed that I was gripping the arm of the bench until Papa said something. 

 

“Yeah. Fine.” I relaxed my hand and flexed my fingers a few times, letting the blood circulate again. 

 

“Good. Now.” He sat down next to me and crossed one ankle over his knee, leaning towards me. “What is your plan?” 

 

“Plan?” I blinked. 

 

“The party is tomorrow?” He asked expectantly. 

 

“... yes?” Was I forgetting something?

 

“So, your date with the Cardinal?” The Sisters nearby stopped talking. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I murmured. I wanted to sink into the floor. What if people started gossiping? What would people think about a Cardinal going on a date with some girl who wasn’t in the church? I’d rather die than find out. Not that it was even a date to begin with. Papa seemed to pick up on what the sudden silence meant. 

 

“Ah, I must remember incorrectly. _Scusami._ ” Papa leaned closer to me so the Sisters wouldn’t hear. “Do not worry. I will handle it, _gattina_.” He whispered. He stood, giving me a small grin and a wave, before striding away and leaving me alone with my book. A sense of foreboding washed over me. Not knowing what Papa had planned was terrifying. But, as much as I hated to admit it, he was good at making plans. Papa was a force of nature that I realized was better to accept than try to resist. 

 

Once Papa had left, the Sisters close by began gossiping again. Slowly, more and more Sisters filled the surrounding area. 

 

I had settled into a bench right in view of the front doors of the abbey. I told myself over and over that I would not fuss over Copia coming back. I was just going to make sure he got back safely and then I would just leave him be. I was sure he would be swamped anyway, having been gone so long. 

 

More and more people were gathering to see the band return and the din of their individual conversations made it hard to read. Not that I was reading, anyway. I had been staring at the same paragraph for longer than I cared to admit. Either way, I was annoyed at the surrounding noise. I didn’t want this to be the place I saw Copia again after so long. 

 

I had just marked my book and stood to head back to my room when the large front doors opened and everyone’s heads turned to look. There was a moment of silence as people jostled to see if it was the band and then what had been a small hum of conversation grew into a symphony of hurried voices as they all rushed to talk to the new celebrities. 

 

I spotted the top of Copia’s head through the crowd before the surrounding people surged forward to get closer to him and the Ghouls. They jostled me around and my chest tightened. I hadn’t expected this. I confirmed that Copia was back, which was all I wanted to do. Now, I needed to leave. 

 

Fighting against the sea of people made things worse. I was trapped and scared. No matter how far I moved, there was still the same amount of people to wade through to get to safety. I fought panic and opted for shuffling my way over to the wall. Pressing myself into the stone, clutching my book to my chest like a life raft, I prayed that everyone would leave soon. 

 

The crowd seemed to churn and move and I realized that it was because Copia and the Ghouls were pushing their way though instead of stopping to talk to anyone. Mountain and Aether parted the sea of people so they could all pass, the other Ghouls flanking Copia like they were his security detail. 

 

I glimpsed Copia in the center of it all and he looked relaxed. The Copia I knew would have been a nervous wreck surrounded by all these people, but now he was casually chatting with the people they were passing. Had being on tour given him that much confidence? I panicked. 

 

What if he had changed? 

 

What if I hadn’t changed to keep up with him? 

 

I leaned over and stepped on to my tip-toes to keep my eye on Copia, trying to catch any sign of the nervous man he had been when he left. I noticed a strong tension in his shoulders and his smile looked forced. That gave me hope. Maybe he hadn’t changed, he had just gotten better at hiding how nervous he was. 

 

Or, I could be looking for things that weren’t there. 

 

Deciding I had seen enough, I prepared to push through the crowd again. I planted my feet flat on the floor and looked around for an exit strategy. As I did, my eyes flicked back over to Copia. 

 

He was looking right at me. 

 

Through a gap in the ocean of bodies, our eyes met for a moment. The stilted smile he was wearing softened until the corners of his mouth barely turned up and he waved at me. I waved back at him before he looked away and went back to talking to the crowd. 

 

A warmth bloomed in my chest. In all the chaos, amongst these people, we shared a small moment where I could see him without the facade he seemed to be putting on. He was still the same nervous man deep down. The thought made my heart feel light. I leaned against the wall for a moment, my book still clutched to my chest, as my mind played back the way his face softened when he looked at me. 

 

I sat in that warmth for a while, long after Copia passed and the crowd was dispersing. Someone bumped into me as they were leaving, knocking me out of my reverie. I pressed myself harder into the wall, focusing on not panicking at the sudden contact. 

 

I closed my eyes and took a few breaths to steady myself before my mind caught up with what I had been doing. Had I just been standing, staring at nothing, while I daydreamed about one look that Copia gave me? 

 

A sudden, powerful dread washed over me as I realized Papa had been right. I had been resisting my feelings, ignoring them. I sank to the floor, curling my knees under my chin as I dealt with the weight of my revelation. 

 

I was in love with Copia and I had no idea what to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, some character growth! I'm proud of my dumb, dumb girl. 
> 
> Next week: So many mistakes. Probably multiple chapters of mistakes.


	18. Chapter 18 -- Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa gets Evelyn ready for the evening's festivities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday everyone! I am literally running out the door to go to work so I will just say I hope everyone enjoys the chapter!
> 
> \-- Birdy

How should you react when you fall in love?

 

In the movies, when the heroine realizes she is in love the music swells and the lighting gets soft as she basks in the warmth of such a positive emotion. That was how it should feel. 

 

Why wasn’t it that way for me?

 

3 AM, and I hadn’t slept a wink. I was anxious, frantic, and full of dread. Somewhere deep down there was excitement, too. In less than 18 hours, I would see Copia again. Could I go through with it?

 

“How can I ever have a normal conversation with Copia again?” I had been pacing back and forth in my room for so long it amazed me I hadn’t worn out the carpet. Tibby following at my heels, batting at the end of my loose pajama pants from time to time while I spilled out my soliloquy to him. 

 

“I am the worst at hiding my feelings. Not to mention that I’m an absolute mess when it comes to relationships.” I nervously picked at the skin around my nails. “I don’t even think I can sustain any relationship. I don’t know how to anymore. And any level of intimacy.... Shit....”

 

I stopped pacing, rubbing the heels of my palms over my tired eyes. Tibby, not realizing I had quit walking, knocked into my ankles and mewed in annoyance. I scooped him up and held him up to my chest and swayed back and forth, bouncing like I was holding a baby.

 

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” I muttered, nuzzling my chin into Tibby’s back as he crawled his front paws over my shoulder. “There might not be any relationship to begin with. Copia might see me as just a friend. Or even worse, he sees me as his daughter... fuck...” I groaned. To someone hundreds of years old I was practically a zygote. There’s no way he was interested. 

 

But I was fucking terrible at judging these kinds of things. 

 

I set Tibby on the ground and opened the drawer of my desk full of Copia’s letters. I thumbed through them, looking for anything absolute that I could hold on to. 

 

But did I even want that? 

 

Love is something that people want returned, right? But Copia loving me felt both exciting and horrifying. During the night I imagined cute romantic scenarios between the two of us but I was awkward in every single one. I would say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing; not even in my daydreams could I picture myself being a good partner. 

There was another factor: He was immortal. He would outlive me and never change. I would grow old before his eyes. Could I, in good conscience, put him through something like that? Had he already been through it before?

 

After reading every letter at least twice, I tossed them back in the drawer and closed it with a sigh. I glanced at the clock in the kitchen.

 

5:16 AM

 

With a groan, I placed my forehead on the polished wood of the desk. I placed my hands on the back of my neck, my elbows coming to rest by my ears boxing my head in my arms. I wanted to shut everything out. To stop worrying. To stop my feelings from existing. 

 

It was too much. 

 

_ Thump, thump.  _

 

I jolted up, blinking my eyes open. The sun was up, streaming through the windows and passed its zenith. My arms had fallen asleep, dead weight by my sides. I leaned to glance at the kitchen clock. 

 

3:07 PM.

 

Fuck. 

 

_ Thump, thump. _

 

Someone was knocking on my door. I tried to shake my hands, pain prickling in every finger as the blood started circulating again. My back screamed with a dull ache, angry at the position I had fallen asleep in. I stretched and arched my back to get it to follow any range of motion. 

 

_ Thump! Thump! _

 

“Do we need to break the door down again?” The thick wood muffled Papa’s sing-song voice. 

 

“Please don’t...” I groaned, voice groggy. I flexed my fingers, and they still stung as feeling rushed back to them. I cursed under my breath. “Gimmie a second.” 

 

I yawned so deeply I thought my jaw would dislocate. I stood and my feet were asleep, too. Great. I shook them out and stepped carefully towards the door to keep them from buckling under me. 

 

“You were napping?” One of Papa’s eyebrows quirked up when he saw me. 

 

“Uh.... yeah.” Napping and sleeping are very similar things. 

 

“On your face?” My hand went right to my forehead. I could feel the grooves of the wood pressed into the skin. I cursed again. 

 

“Are you all right,  _ gattina _ ?” Papa squinted his eyes at me. 

 

“To be honest, I’m freaking the fuck out.” I stepped back into the room and Papa took that as an invitation to follow. 

 

“Ah, yes, there will be many people here tonight. I understand your concern. But I think you will be fine.” Papa’s hands were behind his back and he was walking casually around the room. I turned away from him so he wouldn’t be able to see how exhausted I felt.

 

“That’s not it, Papa.” Though I should also have been worried about any run-in I might have with the guests that evening, thoughts of Copia weighed heavier on my mind. 

 

“Then what--?”

 

“You were right, Papa...” I hated to admit it to him. I was certain it would go right to his head.

 

“Of course I was. I am Papa.” He paused. “What is it I am right about?” 

 

If I wasn’t so worried and tired I would laugh. 

 

“Copia... I....” My mouth opened, but I couldn’t complete the sentence. 

 

“Yes?” The teasing tone to Papa’s voice told me he knew what I was talking about, but wanted me to say it. I took in a deep breath. 

 

“I may have... feelings.... For Copia.” That was the best I could do. Papa gave a slow, lazy clap his cotton gloves muffled. 

 

“Very good,  _ gattina _ , I am proud of you.” He said. I turned to look at him and he was on my bed, sitting cross-legged. He looked like an excited child. “Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right?” 

 

“I think that’s about drug addiction.” I laughed. 

 

“Same principle applies.” Papa shrugged and propped his elbows on his knees, entwining his fingers and resting his chin on the back of his hands. “So, what is the plan?” 

 

“I don’t have one.” I muttered. “I don’t even think I will be able to talk to him.” 

 

“You will.” Papa nodded his head. “Nothing has to change.” 

 

“I don’t know how love or romance or whatever works for you Papa,” I crossed my arms and pinched the bridge of my nose. “But it feels different for me now. I might not talk to him normally anymore. I will overthink every single thing I do, I’m sure of it.” 

 

“Not if you make a plan.” Papa said matter-of-factly. He stood from the bed and placed his hands behind his back, grinning at me. “Good thing there is time. Come.” 

 

“Come where?” I froze, anxiety twisting in me for whatever Papa wanted me to do. 

 

_ “Rilassati, Cenerentola.” _ He leaned against the door frame, waiting for me to follow with his Cheshire Cat grin. 

 

“Excuse me?” My brow furrowed as I tried to figure out what he said. 

 

“You know of Cinderella, yes?” His head tilted to the side questioningly. I nodded, and he looked even more pleased. “Consider me your Fairy Godmother, _ principessa _ .” 

 

Papa refused to give any more details about what was happening, but he had a certain skip in his step. I could imagine him seeing himself as the puppet master bringing the two lovers together to their Happily Ever After. I just hoped he wasn’t overestimating me.

 

Papa took me to a part of the church I had never wanted to go to: the wing where the Sisters of Sin lived. The girls bustled about, preparing for the evening’s festivities. Each one was dazzled at the sight of Papa. Even though they weren’t looking at me, so many eyes turned in our direction made me want to hide. I always thought the Sisters saw me as a trespasser in their home, someone who didn’t fit in and whom they wanted to leave. I didn’t know if being seen with Papa would help or hurt.

 

I followed Papa into a room at the far end of the dorms. It was a shockingly white private bathroom with a small sitting area and a makeup vanity. Was this an area for Sisters with special privileges? I couldn’t imagine another reason a dormitory area would have such lush bathroom.

 

Two Sisters sat on the grey couch, chatting. They quickly stood when they saw Papa. 

 

“Ah, Sisters.” Papa beamed at them and they both blushed. “You know what to do?” Both of them nodded. “Very good. I will be right back,  _ gattina _ .” 

 

“What’s going on?” Clutched Papa’s arm before he could go anywhere, not sure if I wanted to be alone with two strangers. 

 

“Well, while I may be your Fairy Godmother for the day,” The two Sisters exchanged a confused glance. “I cannot snap my fingers and make the  _ principessa _ ready for the ball.” I sighed. This fairytale analogy was going too far. 

 

“He asked us to do your hair and makeup.” One sister with glasses and curly dark hair poking out from under her veil spoke up when I still looked confused. 

 

“Yes. That.” Papa nodded. “I will leave you in their beautiful hands while I finished arrangements.” His grin was back. When I still looked apprehensive, he stepped between me and the Sisters to speak in a hushed voice. 

 

“Is this all right,  _ gattina _ ?” He asked, concerned. I chewed at the inside of my cheek, unable to meet his gaze. “I do this because it is something you would never do for yourself.” 

 

He had a point there. 

 

“This is a lot....” I muttered, my gaze focused on the wall, too nervous to look at Papa. “It’s just a party. You don’t need to do this much.” Papa put his hands on my shoulders and brought his face down level with mine. I met his eyes for a moment before looking away again. His gaze was too intense. 

 

“When was the last time you felt beautiful, cara?” He asked sincerely. My eyes darted from side to side, searching through memories. There must have been a time when I was with Patrick where I felt at least pretty, but all of those memories had been tainted. It must have been before my mom died. Such a long time ago.

 

“I’m... not sure.” I admitted. Papa gave a solemn nod. 

 

“And what better time than when you reunite with your love, eh?” He patted my shoulder. 

 

“P-Papa!” I stuttered, my face getting warmer. “It’s not something that important.” Papa squinted at me, frowning slightly. 

 

“Why do you say that?” 

 

“It’s... I don’t know.” I sighed, crossing my arms. “It’s just... me. If I can even talk to Copia, it won’t be as big of a deal as you think.” Papa’s brow furrowed, and the frown deepened. 

 

“Let’s say this,” He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “This is the first time you meet each other in, what, a month? More?” I nodded. “Then, would you want him to first see you like this,” he gestured to my baggy pajama pants and loose t-shirt. “Or...” He leaned in closer, voice almost a whisper “Would you rather him see you so gorgeous that it stuns him.” 

 

Copia seeing me across the crowded party, thinking I was beautiful... More heat flooded my face and butterflies filled my stomach. That’s something every girl would want, right? For the person they love to be awestruck by their looks? 

 

But could I even allow myself to want that? 

 

My eyes met Papa’s. He was waiting for a response with a light gleaming in his eyes. He wanted me to succeed, probably even more than I did. He made it feel like it was all right for me to want love. 

 

“Okay.” I muttered, nodding slightly. Papa beamed and turned back to the Sisters. 

 

He started giving them general instructions on how to make my hair and makeup match the dress he wanted me to wear before he left to give me time to get ready. 

 

“You don’t have to...” I muttered to the Sisters when Papa left. “I can do it myself and say that you did. I don’t want to be a bother.” Both Sisters shook their heads. 

 

“I honestly miss doing this.” The Sister who hadn’t spoken, with dark skin and her hair entirely covered by her veil, shrugged slightly. “I’d do my little sister’s makeup for dates when we were younger.” 

 

“And you always look so nervous, like something bad will happen.” The Sister with the glasses looked at me sympathetically. “This seemed like something that might help you be... less scared, I guess?” 

 

The Sisters sat me down and worked simultaneously. Victoria, the spectacled Sister, worked on trying to get my unruly, wavy hair into an updo while Danielle dabbed and brushed makeup onto my face. They kept up a constant conversation with me, asking about myself or talking about events around the abbey. I wondered if they were trying to keep me distracted so I didn’t worry too much about them touching me. 

They weren’t touching me directly, just touching my hair and patting sponges and brushes on me. I was better with things like that. Especially after my dozens of makeup sessions with Cirrus and Cumulus. Still, I wondered if Papa told them about me and how I might react. 

 

As Victoria and Danielle were finishing up, Papa reappeared in a very well made suit, a garment bag slung over his arm. 

 

“ _Bene_.” Papa inspected me and gave a seal of approval. I took the time to examine the suit he was wearing. It looked a dark black, but when you got close enough, you could tell it was a deep purple with subtle designs pressed into the fabric. Very Papa. 

 

I was inspecting Papa’s outfit so intently that I was startled when he dropped the garment bag into my lap. 

 

“Put this on.” He rushed me into a changing area. “We have got little time.” 

 

I unzipped the bag and gawked at the contents. It was a crimson red ballgown that looked more expensive than the car I drove in college. The bodice had strategically placed lace over a more translucent fabric with sleeves to match. The bodice was at the waist and bloomed out into a large solid red shirt that had bits of lace accents scattered around. I was anxious that it didn’t cover my shoulders, but it looked like something a princess would wear. 

 

I carefully pulled the dress on over my head, keeping my makeup intact, and Victoria helped zip up the back. Papa grinned when he saw me and handed me a pair of red pumps. As I sat to put them on, Papa grabbed one of my feet and slipped on a shoe. 

 

“I thought the prince did that part.” I teased him and he smiled. 

 

“Come look.” Papa helped me up and moved me in front of a mirror. 

 

I didn’t recognize myself. I’d been so used to not taking care of my looks; letting my hair fall wherever, wearing clothes two sizes too big, and never attempting to put on makeup. It felt surreal to see this other person in the mirror. 

 

I blinked and turned my head to confirm that the reflection followed me. This person, elegant in red, was me. 

 

“How do you feel?” Papa asked. A hint of worry was in his eyes. Was he concerned that I wouldn’t be upset? 

 

“As much as I hate to admit, like a princess” I sighed with a smile. “Don’t let it go to your head.” Papa grinned and offered me his arm. 

 

“Then Cinderella must get to her ball, eh?” I rolled my eyes again, but thanked the Sisters as Papa rushed me out the door. 

 

The halls of the abbey were empty and only the sounds of our shoes on the stone echoed around us. 

 

“Are we late?” I asked Papa. 

 

“Fashionably.” he assured me. “Which is the best kind to be.” 

 

The party, which was more like a ball, was in a large hall I had only seen empty in the past. Apparently it was only used for big events like this. There were large, dark wooden doors between us and the gathering I could hear buzzing behind them. 

 

“We’re so late that they closed the doors?” Papa smiled at me but I felt anxiety rise. “Won’t that pull a lot of attention when they open them for us?” 

 

“A grand entrance for the  _ principessa _ .” He made to knock on the doors but I grabbed his wrist, a moment of panic overtaking me. 

 

“I don’t think I can do this.” I looked into his eyes, pleading with him to let me back out, but his smile didn’t falter. 

 

“You do not give yourself enough credit,  _ gattina. _ You can do much more than you think.” I gripped his wrist tighter, and he laughed.

 

“At least let our Cardinal see you, yes?” As much as it embarrassed me, I wanted Copia to see me like this. While I was getting my hair and makeup done, I had actually let myself get excited. 

 

Papa reached for the door and my stomach lurched. 

 

“We didn’t come up with a plan.” After all the talk from Papa, I realized we had said nothing about it. 

 

“Ah, yes.” Papa nodded and took a step back, turning to me. “The plan is simple. He sees you and will obviously want to sweep you up and dance with you right away. Then... you go from there. Just like Cinderella.” 

 

“Papa, that’s hardly a plan at all! Plus, I don’t know how to dance.” 

 

“Trust yourself.” he assured me. “And if you can’t do that.... There is an open bar. Wine helps.” That got a chuckle out of me and Papa beamed. 

 

“Everything will be okay.” 

 

With that, Papa rapped his knuckles on the large doors and they started to open.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papa wasn't trying to put Evelyn on the spot by coming to the party so late, he's just godawful at time management. 
> 
> Next week: we should reach peak dumbass


	19. Chapter 19 -- Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some miscommunication between Copia and Evelyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late, but just barely! Sorry for the delay. I was out of it for most of the week. But I'm glad I got this done for you guys! I tried something new and I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> \-- Birdy

The first thing that hit me once the doors opened was the noise. An orchestra of Ghouls played classical pieces over the roar of hundreds of people. They were all talking, dancing, eating, and all making so much noise. I already felt overwhelmed. 

 

Papa took a stride forward, and I stayed still, clutching desperately onto his arm. He turned back to me and I shook my head, pleading with him to say I could leave. Instead, he gently patted my hand and yanked me forward into the room. 

 

I stumbled but caught myself, throwing both of my arms out to the side to help me maintain balance. There was a hush in the din, like someone turned the volume down on the TV. I straightened up and saw almost everyone’s eyes turned our direction, now speaking in hushed conversations.

 

Surely, they were talking about Papa. He is the head of the church and always pulled attention wherever he went. 

 

But what if they were talking about me? This strange girl in red next to Papa. 

 

What if people thought I was  _ with  _ Papa? 

 

My stomach turned, and I pulled on Papa’s arm again. Someone approached him and he was about to speak with them, but held up his hand as he turned to me. 

 

“You’ve already caught someone’s attention.” He pointed, and I followed his finger. 

 

Copia was there, in the middle of a crowd, dressed in a red suit. The surrounding people were tapping his shoulder, trying to get his attention, but he stared right at me. Suddenly the entire room was quiet and there was only the two of us. 

 

I gave him a small wave, and he waved back. 

 

He looked away, and the crowd returned. 

 

“Go.” Papa pushed me toward Copia and I turned to grab at his arm again. Papa was my anchor, and I would start floundering if I let him go. Again I was silently pleading him.

 

_ I can’t do this. Not alone.  _

 

_ Please Papa, don’t make me _ . 

 

 “Trust yourself.” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and then turned away to the crowd gathering to talk to him. 

 

I was suffocating in the crowd, even though there was plenty of space for me to move. How could I approach Copia? My mind hyper aware how anyone could touch me. Strangers could touch me. I didn’t know what they would do. What if they wanted to hurt me? 

 

I shook my head to dispel the thought. It was my mind scrambling for excuses to leave. Copia had already seen I me, so it would have been rude if I didn’t at least try to speak to him.

But I was too terrified to move...

 

“Hey.” 

 

I jumped and turned to the voice at my side. There was a man in a tuxedo smiling at me. 

 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked. 

 

“Y-Yes...?” I hesitated. What was his game? Why was he talking to me? 

 

“That’s good to hear.” The man chuckled warmly. “You are, by far, the most beautiful woman here. I would regret not asking you to share a drink with me.” 

 

My mouth went dry. I didn’t understand. Was he making fun of me? Was this a trick? I stared at the stranger dumbly and his suave smile faltered. 

 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” He asked, reaching out to place a concerned, assuring hand on my shoulder. 

 

My body reflexively took a large step back from the man, making me bump into someone behind me. I felt like I was being attacked from all sides. My knees started to shake. I refused to start a scene in the middle of such a public place, so I fought hard to keep my panic bottled up. 

 

“Are you all right, Miss Evelyn?” The person I had bumped into had placed their hands protectively on my shoulders. I turned my head to the left to glance at their hands, seeing black leather. 

 

Copia. 

 

“U-Uh yeah, I’m fine.” My face was already burning. This is not how I wanted this to go. The man who had approached me looked from my face to Copia’s over my shoulder and then back to me.  

 

“Oh, I’m sorry is this your.... Father?” 

 

“U-uhm, well-” I couldn’t even describe our relationship to myself, let alone other people. 

 

“Excuse us.” Copia turned me around, placing one arm across my shoulders as he ushered me away from the bewildered man in the tuxedo. 

 

“Was he bothering you?” Copia leaned down to murmur in my ear as he piloted me through the crowd.

 

“No... He just — He didn’t know and —  I think he was being nice.” Why did I feel like I needed to defend a stranger to Copia? I heard a noise from Copia that was either a sigh or a huff of annoyance. 

 

“Very well.” He squeezed my shoulder. “If anyone bothers you, tell me, please.” 

 

“I will.” I nodded. He sounded so defensive. I wondered what had happened or if something upset him. 

 

Copia led me to the edge of the room, close to a wall where few people were. He stepped in front of me, both hands on my shoulders, and he studied my face. His gaze was so intense that I couldn’t meet it. Why was he looking at me like that? My cheeks burned and my heart had leapt into my throat, making it impossible to speak. 

 

“Look at me?” His voice sounded so small, hurt. My eyes met his and his face softened, the barely-there smile pulling the corners of his lips. He let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. 

 

“Topolino.” he breathed before wrapping his arms around me. He pulled me in to his chest, cradling the back of my head with one hand while the other wrapped around my back and shoulders. The smell of lavender and incense filled my nose, making me relax against him. 

 

I was safe. He was back. 

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just...” Normally Copia would have pulled away in embarrassment by now, but he still held me tightly. “It is so good to see you.”

 

“Yeah... Good...” My mouth struggled to make words. I wondered if he could feel my heart thumping against my ribcage. The banging in my chest somehow got worse when he pulled back to look at me again. 

 

“You look well.” He said. “More than well, you...” Copia trailed off, a dusting of pink blooming under his freckles. “Well... Ah... You...” Seeing him be awkward gave me a strange sense of peace. Like things were back to normal and I could breathe peacefully.

 

“Are you doing all right? I mean here... with the crowds?” He abandoned his previous train of thought and looked at me, concerned. 

 

“It’s a lot,” I conceded with a nod. “But I feel okay. You being here... It helps.” A shy smile tugged at my mouth despite myself. Copia looked flustered and cleared his throat awkwardly. 

 

“Well, yes, that is.... That’s good.” He nodded stiffly. 

 

An awkward silence fell between us. 

 

How did you talk to someone you were in love with? Papa said nothing needed to change, but I was terrified of saying the wrong thing or letting something slip. 

 

The song changed and Copia took notice. 

 

“This may be forward but,” He laughed awkwardly, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance, Miss Evelyn?” 

 

I tensed. Papa said this would happen. I looked to the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the hall. I’d make a fool of myself if I set foot out there. 

 

“If you don’t want to...” Copia pulled his hand back towards his chest and I hastily grabbed it. 

 

“N-no, I do.” I nodded before hesitating and looking away shyly. “I just... I don’t know how.”

 

“I’d be happy to teach you.” He perked up. “First, place your hands here.” He moved my left hand to his shoulder and kept hold of my right, pulling me closer with his hand around my waist. 

 

“A waltz is simple enough.” He said, but I was still apprehensive. “If this is too much, please say so.” His voice was low and full of concern. 

 

“No, no, this is fine!” I assured him. 

 

I was blushing so hard it hurt. I felt hot from the tips of my ears down to my chest. Copia guided me, and I stared directly at the floor to make sure I was doing it right. I noticed his shoes were a red leather to match his suit.

 

“You should look at your partner.” I hesitantly looked up from my shoes to Copia’s face. He was very close. It was nice, but also terrifying. My stomach was doing backflips. I felt sick, but I didn’t want to pull away. 

 

I felt too self conscious to look in his eyes, so my eyes flitted around his face. Nose, chin, forehead, before coming to rest on his lips. He was smiling slightly, and it made my chest feel warm. I stared until a wave of embarrassment hit me. I was staring at someone's lips. How creepy was that? I needed to get ahold of myself.

 

Did Copia notice? If he did, I'd want to sink into the floor. 

 

Distracted by my anxiety, I felt myself step right on Copia’s foot. I instantly stepped back from him, hand over my mouth. 

 

“I’m so sorry. I-I... I’m sorry.” I couldn’t have been more red. 

 

“It happens to everyone.” He assured me, but I still felt a weight in my stomach. I wanted to run. I felt so stupid.

 

“Excuse me, Cardinal?” A woman, tall with angular features, stepped behind Copia and placed a hand on his shoulder. Copia nodded politely at her. 

 

“I was hoping I could speak to you for a minute?” Her smile was radiant. She was nothing short of beautiful and her touching Copia filled me with an embarrassing amount of jealousy. I felt childish. I just wanted to leave before I made an even bigger ass out of myself.

 

“Actually, I was--” 

 

“No, it’s fine.... Cardinal.” I cut Copia off as he turned back to me. I used his title because I wasn’t sure what level of familiarity I should use with him at something like this, but he looked hurt that I didn’t call him by name. 

 

Just another thing that I had done wrong. 

 

I needed to leave. 

 

“I don’t want to take up more of your time. Excuse me.” Copia took a step towards me, but the woman beside him kept a grip on his shoulder, giving me a chance to slip away. 

 

I saw an exit close by and made a break for it. This was a bad idea. I wasn’t cut out for things like this; dancing and socializing and being pretty. I shouldn’t have let Papa talk me into this. 

 

I reached the exit and gave one glance back. Copia was now speaking with multiple people, but his eyes were searching around. Was he looking for me, or was I just being hopeful? 

 

I spotted Papa in the middle of an even bigger crowd. His eyes flitted away for a second and met mine. He looked over to Copia and then back to me questioningly. 

 

_ “What happened?”  _ His eyes asked. 

 

I bit my lip and shook my head. 

 

“I’m sorry.” I mouthed before leaving into the dark corridor. 

 

I had disappointed Papa. After he tried so hard to make things work for me.

 

And Copia.... I didn’t even want to imagine what he thought of me now. 

**\--__--__--**

 

Copia was never one for parties. Too much noise, too much fuss. And they expected him to talk to people, which he was terrible at. 

 

From the second he had arrived, people had swarmed him. They asked about the tour, the church, other mundane things. Nothing of interest to him. It all felt shallow and vapid. His eyes could not focus on anyone speaking to him, either. His eyes were restlessly scanning over the crowd. For what, he wasn’t sure. 

 

At least, he told himself he wasn’t sure. 

 

A half hour after the festivities really got going, the large doors creaked open, pulling the attention of Copia and the surrounding others. It was Papa, making an audacious entrance as always. He pursed his lips, annoyed, before he saw who was on his arm. 

 

Evelyn.

 

If it wasn’t for his need to be polite, he would have ran right through the crowd to her. 

 

She looked afraid. He wanted to protect her, but felt a strange heat rise in his chest at the way she was holding onto Papa’s arm. He didn’t understand why, but he felt the strongest urge to pull her away. That would have caused a scene. Why did he even entertain the thought?

 

Papa’s eyes met his with a smile and the burning emotion in Copia’s chest rose. Papa whispered something to Evelyn and point to him. Her eyes searched for a moment before landing on him and all at once the world stopped. 

 

He wanted to go to her, tell her how much he missed her, how much every letter she sent meant to him. She gave him a timid wave and the angry heat in his chest was filled with what he could only describe as light. He waved back to her and was just about to abandon every person around him and go to her, but someone tugged at the sleeve of his coat and distracted him. 

Copia gave the person demanding his attention the bare minimum of politeness, nodding a few times before letting his eyes wander back to Evelyn, who was now clutching desperately onto Papa. Papa tenderly tucked her hair behind her ear and the painful, unnamed emotion built back up in his chest. Now it pushed up further to burn his face. 

 

“Cardinal, is something wrong?” The man, a high authority in another sect of the church, addressed Copia. He hadn’t realized that he had been scowling. 

 

“Yes, quite alright.” Copia cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his colleagues for a few minutes before his eyes wandered again. 

 

He couldn’t see Evelyn anywhere. 

 

He could easily spot Papa, but she wasn’t anywhere around him. Had they gotten separated? Was she lost in the crowd? What if someone touched her? Was she having an attack? 

 

He had to find her. 

 

“Excuse me.” Copia threw all decorum out the window as he cut through the group that had surrounded him, leaving them too stunned to follow. 

 

Copia darted through the crowd in a haze. He could feel people touching him and hear them calling his name, but he was on a mission. He had to know Evelyn was safe. 

 

He spotted her and immediately made to dash to her side, but noticed that she was talking to someone. A man who was smiling kindly at her. The man reached for Evelyn and, in a flash, Copia was behind her, glaring daggers at the man.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry is this your.... Father?” 

 

Being called her father made him feel strange, bordering on gross, but didn’t even give him a response. He had to get her out of there and make sure she was all right. 

 

“Excuse us.”

 

Copia wondered for a moment if he was being too forceful as he turned Evelyn around and rushed her off. She seemed nervous. Was it because of him or the man she had been speaking to? 

 

“Was he bothering you?” He had to know if he needed to send some Ghouls after him.

 

Evelyn stammered and Copia felt a pit burrow in his gut. Had she wanted to talk to that man?  Did he just interrupt a conversation and force her out of it? He felt foolish, getting carried away like that. 

 

He knew that few people would stand along the walls of the hall, most people preferring to converse in the crowds, so he knew he could speak to her more privately there. 

 

Copia was full of conflicting emotions as he looked at Evelyn. He had wanted to see her for so long but now that he was there she couldn’t even look at him. Had she just been being kind to him before? Did she not want to see him? He thought of her on Papa’s arm and the pit in his stomach burrowed deeper. 

 

“Look at me?” He needed her to. He needed to see some fondness for him in her eyes, to see that she at least wanted him around. If she didn’t he didn’t know what he would do. 

 

Her eyes had always been so expressive. Copia could always tell when she was happy, sad, or frightened just by looking into them. He felt like he could have entire conversations with Evelyn just by looking into her eyes and she would understand him. 

 

When she finally let her gaze meet his, Copia saw nervousness there. But, under it all, there was a softness and warmth, a fondness that he hoped was for him. His hard, worried expression softened and the warmth in her eyes grew. The kindness in the look she was giving him made a surge of emotion burst through and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling her into an embrace. 

 

He muttered his apologies into her hair, but he could not let her leave his arms. He had missed her so much. 

 

“Yeah... Good...”

 

Her response was underwhelming, and it made Copia’s heart stutter. He had gone too far, so he forced himself to let her go. 

 

She wasn’t talking, which made him anxious but also gave him a chance to look at her. She was stunning. She always was. She had this charm about her, in the way her hair messily framed her face and her freckles stood out on her nose and cheek or in the way she hid herself under her baggy clothing. It made you want to protect her. 

 

But that night was different. She was shining; a radiant jewel. And he had to tell her. He knew that this was a big change for her, and that she probably didn’t make the choice to dress up like this on her own. She had to know how she looked to him. 

 

“Well... Ah... You...” The words died before they could even be formed. Nothing seemed to fully capture what he wanted to say. He spoke multiple languages and all of them were failing him.

Once he turned his attention to her face instead of gawping at her beauty, Copia saw that she still looked nervous

 

“Are you doing all right? I mean here... with the crowds?” If she was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t hesitate to escort her out.

 

“But I feel okay. You being here... It helps.” The light returned to his chest. She liked that he was there, and that was all that he could hope for. 

 

But then he was out of things to say. 

 

The awkwardness between them built, and he cursed himself for not being able to properly socialize. If this was a film, he would have already swept her up and ran off with her in some romantic fashion. But he wasn’t that bold. Not by a long shot. 

 

The one romantic thing that Copia knew, though, was music and dancing. His ears picked up the change in song. Chopin’s Nocturne op.9 No.2. He knew it well. He had been alive when it was written. The Romantic era was one that he sorely missed for the quality of music alone. 

 

When he offered to dance and Evelyn didn’t respond right away, Copia mentally slapped himself. Of course she wouldn’t. Someone had just mistook her for his daughter. She wouldn’t want to be seen on his arm, would she? No one would. He had accepted that fact long ago. He had allowed himself to be hopeful, and it was blowing up in his face like always. 

 

But when he made to pull away, and she grabbed his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to let his hope die completely. 

 

“I just... I don’t know how.” She looked ashamed, but Copia didn’t blame her. Classical dancing had died out in many circles generations ago, and her experiences and upbringing didn’t sound like it made much room for any form of dance. 

 

He started to position her and try to show her what to do. The piece was not a waltz, but waltzing was what he was most comfortable teaching. He could count out the steps and get some semblance of a dance out of it. 

 

She felt so stiff, though, as he walked her through the paces. He chalked it up to nerves, but when she wouldn’t even look at him he began to worry. Did she feel some kind of obligation to him? Was she forcing herself to do this? 

 

He mis-stepped, and it caused Evelyn to step on him. She looked mortified, and he tried to calm her. It had been his fault, anyway. The man was supposed to lead, and he had gotten too lost in his own thoughts. 

She still looked so embarrassed and it broke Copia’s heart. He wanted to sweep her back into his arms and comfort her. Before he could make a move, though, a woman was by his side demanding his attention. 

 

He was so sick of people trying to talk to him. If he was just a Cardinal, they would want nothing to do with him. But now that he had some notoriety, they wouldn’t leave him alone. 

 

“No, it’s fine.... Cardinal.”

 

Copia had meant to dismiss the woman, but Evelyn cut him off. His heart stopped for a moment. She had rarely, if ever, called him by his title instead of his name. Had he done something wrong? 

 

He turned back to the woman beside him to insist that she leave. 

 

“I am sorry, but I am speaking to--” 

 

But Evelyn was gone. To where, he wasn’t sure. She must really have not wanted to be around him to duck away without saying goodbye. 

 

More and more people gathered around Copia but he couldn’t pay them any mind. His eyes were searching everywhere for Evelyn. Anxiety was eating away at him. He had to find her and ask if he upset her. He couldn’t bare the thought of her being unhappy with him. 

 

He finally spotted her, poised at an exit onto the grounds, but looking at someone. Copia followed her line of sight and saw Papa. 

 

Oh. 

 

He could barely see her lips moving, so he couldn’t see what she said, but that Papa was getting some kind of goodbye when he wasn’t made that uncomfortable feeling return. But instead of a burn, this time it was a pain cutting at him. 

 

What had changed while he had been away?

 

For the second time that night, he rudely pushed his way through the crowd. This time he left without a word. 

 

He needed to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe one day these poor babs will stop being idiots. 
> 
> But not anytime soon. 
> 
> Next time: Peak Dumbass part 2


	20. Chapter 20 -- Redo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peak Dumbass Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday, everyone! I didn't do much of a chapter summary because I didn't want to give anything away. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> \-- Birdy

Is there anything more pathetic than drinking wine straight from the bottle? 

 

How about drinking wine straight out of the bottle after making an ass of yourself in front of the person you love and disappointing one of your closest friends? 

 

The door I had left through was a corridor for the waitstaff to use and I spotted a wine rack against the wall on my way out, a corkscrew on a table beside it. 

 

I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I couldn’t think of a better time to drown my sorrows in expensive wine. 

 

So that’s how I found myself leaning against the Lilith statue in the garden, half empty bottle in hand, lamenting my sorrows to the stone. I had gone past crying, straight to numb, bitter sorrow.

 

“God, ’m such a fuckup.” My thoughts swam, the world twisting in front of my eyes. I usually hated being drunk because it made me feel like I wasn’t myself. But at that moment I wanted to be anyone else but me. 

 

I laid down on the stone pedestal, right at the foot of the statue and glowered at it. 

 

“You’re pretty.” I murmured. “Bet you had no problems at all with shit like thish.” Words were awkward in my mouth, but I also couldn’t shut up. “No worries ‘bout doin’ the wrong thing... sayin’ the wrong thing. But you weren’t ‘xactly spoiled fer choice, eh?” I laughed before sitting up to take another swig of wine. It stung my throat, but I’d stopped caring about that long ago. 

 

“But, like...” I set the bottle next to me and placed one hand behind my head, looking at the stars. They had lined the usually dark garden with lights just in case someone wandered in, but it was still dark enough to see the stars twinkling. 

 

 “You left the Garden ‘cause you didn’t like it, yeah? Even though you like, married Adam ‘r some shit?” I knew very little about any religious texts, but that sounded right.

 

 “You had the right idea. Fuck all this.” The warmth in my chest from the alcohol grew into an aching burn of shame. “Fuck feelings the most.” 

 

I’d concluded that if I didn’t have feelings, then my life would be a thousand times easier. No more worrying, no more stress, no more heartache. 

 

“Seems like the devil makes deals around here.” I was still frowning up at the sky. “Maybe I can trade my feelings fer somethin’ cool.” An idea struck me and made me laugh. “I’d give Satan my feelings in exchange fer him dragging down Patrick ‘n torturing him ferever. Win-win.”

 

“Please don’t say such things so casually.” I jolted upright at the voice and the world turned sideways. When my eyes focused, Copia was looking nervously at me. My drunken ramblings made it so I didn’t hear him enter the garden. 

 

“Fack!” I slurred the curse so terribly it became a different word. Copia was the last person I wanted around me right then. “Can you, like... not be here right now?” It was rude, but my brain-to-mouth filter was severely compromised. Copia flinched at my words, shoulders drooping, and a weight dropped into my stomach. 

 

“Uuugh,” I huffed, moving my legs to dangle over the pedestal, head heavy in my hands. “This ish why you need to not be here. Fuckin’ everything up...”

 

“I’m sorry?” Copia’s voice betrayed his confusion, but I couldn’t bring myself to raise my head to look at him. 

 

“I can’t even talk to you ‘nymore!” The heels of my palms rubbed at my eyes, no doubt smearing the makeup there. “Fuckin’ stupid...” 

 

“Are you that upset with me?” Copia’s voice was quiet, and it took my sluggish brain a moment to process his words. 

 

“Wh-?” My eyes squinted, brow furrowing as I stared at my lap. “Why d’ya say that?” 

 

“You seemed keen to leave me back there, and now you don’t want me here.” The factual, emotionless tone he used when he was upset was sneaking into his voice. “I wanted to see if you were all right but if you would wish me to leave, then I will say goodnight.”

 

I heard the crunching of the grass and dirt under his feet and my heart lurched, panicking. 

 

“No, wait!” I stood hastily, fearing he might distance himself from me like he had before. My drunken, wobbly knees immediately betrayed me and I crumpled to the ground. Catching myself on my hands, my palms stung almost as bad as my embarrassment. 

 

“Fuck!” I spat the word at the earth beneath me “Shit... Fuck, ‘m sorry.” The sound of grass under feet drew closer until Copia’s red leather shoes were right in front of me. He knelt to help me clumsily get to my feet, and I clutched at his forearms. 

 

“Are you all right?” I looked up at him and a million emotions filled me at once. 

 

“Yeah - No - I mean...” Shame and sadness filled me, but so did joy. I was happy to see him, but also angry. The confusing mix made my eyes sting. “I dunno how I am.” I fought the tears with all my might, but knew I would be a blubbering mess any second. 

 

Copia carefully piloted me to a bench and sat me down. Since I didn’t release my grip on his arms, he knelt down in front of me. 

 

And he said nothing. 

 

He was still, looking up at me, and it made me feel antsy. 

 

“What?” I asked him, shrinking back. 

 

“Nothing.” He shrugged, but kept looking at me. 

 

“What ‘r you doin’?” I cringed at how badly I had butchered the sentence. 

 

“Waiting.” 

 

“Waitin’ fer...?”

 

“For you to be ready to talk.” His kindness made tears well up again. 

 

“B-but-” 

 

“No more buts, right?” He cut me off, and I huffed like a child. He chuckled, shaking his head. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and my heart clenched. 

 

“You stop that.” I slurred. 

 

“I’m sorry, should I-?” Copia was flustered and moved to pull away, but I still had a grip on his arms. 

 

“No, stay.” I grumbled. “Just stop wi-with yer face.”  Copia looked even more panicked and I let out a frustrated sigh. My foggy mind couldn’t find the right words. “The... All this...” I gestured to my face, waving my hand in front of it. “No.” 

 

“I-I’m sorry I’m sure what you mean.” Copia voice was soft again and I let out another frustrated groan. I was making things worse. 

 

“I’m not sure what I mean, either.” I let go of his arms and slumped back on the bench. 

 

“Can’t do anythin’ right.” I muttered, chin tucked to my chest. “Even after Papa...” I forced my mouth shut, not wanting Copia to know that Papa had forced me to see him that night. It would sound even worse. 

 

“Papa...” I heard the creak of his gloves as he clenched his fist. “You two seem to have...” He swallowed, finding the right words. “Gotten very close.” 

 

“Wull, yeah.” I shrugged, the words clumsily leaving my mouth. “He’s the only other person- demon- whatever that I know here. He’s my friend.” 

 

“Forgive me for saying,” Copia started. “But you seemed like more than friends tonight.”

 

“Whuh?” I tried to think of anything that would give him that idea. 

 

“You were...” Copia cleared his throat and then stopped himself, shifting uncomfortably on the grass. 

 

“I was what?” I pushed. Copia thought for a moment before he spoke again. 

 

“You were clinging to him.” His voice was low, bordering on angry. “You looked right at him when you left and didn’t spare me a glace, so forgive me if-” He cut himself off and exhaled sharply through his nose. 

 

 “Woah, Copia,” Whenever I had seen him upset, it was a quiet anger that he hid behind a neutral mask. I’d never seen that mask crack. “You all right?” 

 

“Yes, I-” A pause, another exhale, and then he stood. I reached for him, but the muscles in my arms loose from the wine made the attempt feeble and sluggish. Before I could touch him, he took a slight step back, wringing his hands. 

 

“Copia?” I leaned forward to stand up, but he raised his hand to stop me. 

 

“I’m sorry, Miss Evelyn.” his neutral tone returned. “I am letting my emotions get the better of me. I had allowed myself to imagine... certain expectations. I now realize I was wrong. I should have-” He hesitated, biting his lip. His shoulders were shaking. “I should have considered circumstances more- more logically. I know Papa. How he is. I should have known that...” Another pause, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

 

“Wait... ‘R you... Jealous?” I spoke slowly, catching up with his words. When Copia looked away from me, saying nothing, I let out a puff of laughter. “Ohmigod, you are!” A weird, petty type of happiness fluttered in my chest. If he was getting jealous, that meant he had to like me a little, right? 

 

“N-No,” Copia stammered. “I just feel a little foolish. I got a certain impression from your letters but now I see I was looking at things incorrectly.” I let out another, louder laugh and Copia froze. 

 

“You thought... me ‘n Papa?” I laughed louder and longer, my mind conjuring up images of what being together with Papa would be like. Every single one was ridiculous. “I would  _ never! _ ” I was crying from laughter and every muscle in Copia’s body tensed. 

 

“Copia,” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I looked up at him and immediately felt bad. I stood, now more sure on my feet. 

 

“‘M sorry, but...” I let out another chuckle. “We’re both so fuckin’ dumb.” I took a step towards him to close the gap between us. 

 

Then I kissed him.

 

Not so much kissed, more like fell onto his lips. 

 

I don’t know what possessed me, but my inebriated mind could only conjure up one way to assure him I had no interest in Papa. 

 

Copia stiffened even more and gave no response. Instead, he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away from him. I staggered back, and he hastily grabbed back onto my shoulders to keep me from falling. 

 

“Miss,” he was the same shade of red as his suit and he looked everywhere but at me. “Y-You’re drunk. You shouldn’t...” He stammered and my stomach twisted. 

 

Had I misunderstood him? Or pushed too hard? 

 

“S-shit,” I muttered, stepping back from him. “Sorry, I thought... that... well...” I couldn’t bring myself to say I thought he had feelings for me. 

 

“It’s all right.” Copia said, tugging at the edge of his waistcoat to straighten it. “You didn’t know what you were doing. We both know you would never do that if you were fully in control of yourself.”

 

“Yeah, because I’d never have the guts!” The confession slipped out, and heat rose to my face as Copia stared at me, bewildered. 

 

“I am not sure what you mean.” 

 

“Copia,” I let my mouth run to get out things I would never say otherwise. If things went poorly, I would act like I had forgotten what happened in the morning. 

 

“I was clingin’ to Papa because the crowd scared me.” I explained and Copia blinked, lips pursing as he listened. “He spent the entire day dressin’ me up and convincin’ me to come and see you.” I realized how that sounded and started stammering. 

 

“N-n-not that I didn’t want to. To see you, I mean.” I explained. “But I worried that I’d fuck up and do somethin’ wrong.” The events of the night until that moment flashed in my mind. “And that’s what I did.” 

 

“No, you-”

 

“Don’t lie. I made a fuckin’ fool of m’self.” I cut Copia off with a sigh. “Papa blabbered on ‘n on about Cinderella ‘n being a Fairy Godmother ‘n Prince Charming and shit.” Copia looked utterly confused, but my mouth kept moving. “It made me think, maybe, some fairytale miracle would happen. Like Cinderella getting woken up by true love’s kiss or somethin’ like that.”

 

“That’s Sleeping Beauty.” Copia pointed out, now looking more amused than nervous. “Or possibly Snow White.” 

 

“The point is,” I huffed at him. “I hyped m’self up too much, got in my head, and fucked up really, really bad.” 

 

“No, you did not.” 

 

“You thought I was datin’ Papa!” I pointed out. “I wanted to like... sweep you off your feet or somethin’- or is that what the guy does?- Either way, I made you upset, stomped on your fuckin’ foot, and now I’m drunk out in some fuckin’ garden, throwin’ m’self at you ‘n making an even bigger ass of m’self.” 

 

Copia looked dumbstruck, caught off guard by my rambling.

 

“I’m jus’...” I slurred, plopping down onto the bench. “I’m a fuckin’ mess, Copia.” My head was as heavy as a bowling ball in my hands and I had to prop my elbows on my knees to support it. 

 

Copia knelt before me again, taking my hand. His tiny smile was back and his eyes crinkled fondly at me. 

 

“Why ‘er you smilin’?” I grumbled. “I made a mess a everythin’” I signed. 

 

“While this evening was not... ideal.” He admitted, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You trying so hard to impress me is heartwarming.” 

 

“Heartwarming wasn’t exactly what I was goin’ for.” I grumbled. 

 

“Then why don’t we start over?” His voice was so sweet and earnest. It made my stomach fill with butterflies. 

 

“’cuse me?” I asked, heat rushing to my face. 

 

“I mean...” He pulled on my hand to get me to stand and he rose to meet me. “We act like nothing happened. Like we are seeing each other for the first time.”

 

“But... ‘m drunk.” I mumbled. 

 

“Well...” Copia paused, trying to come up with a solution. “What if we start over tomorrow morning?” he offered. “I can take you to your room so you can sleep?” I nodded, and he squeezed my hand. He turned to lead me through the corridors to my room, but I stopped him with a gentle tug on his hand. 

 

“C-Can we stay jus’ a little longer?” I asked, flushed. 

 

“If you would like.” 

 

“‘N can we... Try dancing again?” My voice shrunk smaller and smaller the more I spoke until the last word was barely intelligible. “I feel real bad ‘bout stepping on you... ‘N we can kinda hear the music?” The very distant sounds of the small orchestra faintly reached the garden. 

 

“It was my fault you stepped on me.” He shrugged. “And you are not in a state to waltz.” 

 

“Then... like... high school prom slow dance.” 

 

“I’m sorry?” I confused Copia once more. 

 

“Oh, shit, yeah, you’ve never been ta high school, huh?” I remembered. “Well, it’s easy. ‘S like a hug, but you kinda sway in a circle.” He still wasn’t understanding, so I pulled him towards me. I positioned his hands on my hips and circled my arms around his neck. I leaned into his chest and Copia followed as we swayed back and forth. 

 

“This is very... simplistic.” Copia said politely, wrapping his arms around my waist. 

 

“Yeah, I know it’s dumb.” I conceded. “But it’s the best I can do right now.” I grumbled. “‘Sides, we’re starting over tomorrow. This doesn’t count.” 

 

“If you say so.” He said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. A small laugh rumbled in his chest as I rested my head on his shoulder. 

 

“That means I didn’t kiss you while drunk, yeah?” I was already embarrassed at the moment, I hated to think of how mortified I would be when I sobered up. 

 

“Never happened.” There was amusement in his voice. 

 

“Good.” I nodded into the crook of his neck. “Because that would have been dumb. Super tacky.” 

 

“I don’t know about that.” 

 

We were quiet, swaying in time to the faint music. The repetitive motion and the gentle sounds of Copia’s breathing was lulling me to sleep, but I didn’t want to go to bed or for him to leave, so I said nothing. 

 

It wasn’t until I dozed off on my feet that Copia pulled back. He put a finger under my chin so I would look at him and he studied my face.

 

“You’re tired.” He kissed the top of my head once more. “Let’s get you to bed.” I grumbled in protest, but he insisted, and we made the trek back to my room. 

 

I stumbled more than I walked, but Copia was patient and kept one arm wrapped around my shoulder the entire way. 

 

I couldn’t get the key into the lock to enter my room, so Copia did it for me, gently pushing the door open. 

 

“Will you be able to get yourself to bed?” He asked. I nodded sluggishly. 

 

“I just have ta shimmy out of this dress thing ‘n then I can collapse on the bed. Easy-peasy.” I assured him and he covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, shaking his head. 

 

“Hey!” I tugged at his arm. 

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to me rude.”

 

“No, laugh at me all ya want.” I cut him off and his head quirked to the side, unsure of what I meant. “Don’t hide yer laugh. S’nice.” The warmth returned to his eyes as he pulled me in for a hug. 

 

“Sleep well,  _ Topolino _ .” His moustache grazed against my neck as he spoke before he pulled away. Before he let go of me, I grabbed his shoulders. 

 

“One more thing.” I said and one of his eyebrows quirked up. “This still doesn’t count, yeah?” I asked. 

 

“If you don’t want it to.” 

 

“‘Kay.” I moved my hands up from the shoulders to the back of his neck to pull him down for a proper kiss. Copia stiffened at first, but then let out a sigh and pulled me closer, one arm wrapped around my waist and his other hand in my hair. 

 

“I don’t think I’d have the nerve to do that if I wasn’t so drunk.” I giggled when I had to break the kiss to breathe. Copia pressed his forehead to mine for a moment, closing his eyes. We stood there in a comfortable silence for a while before my drunken mouth was compelled to speak. 

 

“I missed you.” I breathed, feeling like I had to whisper in the empty corridor. Copia kissed my forehead before letting out a gentle, content sigh onto my skin. 

 

“I missed you too,  _ Topolino. _ ” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They left that bottle of wine in the garden.... 
> 
> And we're pretty much on the home stretch of this story! We have one more 'arc' to speak of and that's it. Thank you for staying with me for 20 chapters!
> 
> Next week, the repercussions of chugging half a bottle of wine.


	21. Update on the status of this fic

Hi everyone, 

I apologize if I got your hopes up for a new chapter. I've just gotten a few questions asking when this fic will be updated and I wanted to answer in a place where more readers will see it. 

So, when will I be updating? The answer is I don't know.

School and work is keeping me busy and stressed, and it's hard to write as Evelyn right now.

Evelyn is built out of a really terrible time I had from 2017 - early 2019. She was a coping mechanism for all the bullshit I dealt with. I am just barely out of that situation and I don't want to put myself back in that headspace to continue writing as her. The winter tends to be the hardest time for me, mentally speaking, so I don't want to add more onto that. 

Long story short, I will update when I feel like I am able to. 

Thank you for your support and your patience. 

\--Birdy

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and/or follow me on tumblr -- http://just-here-for-copia.tumblr.com/


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